Between a bear and a dark place
by Oblivian03
Summary: "Easy there, lad. You're alright," Bofur said as he ran over, dropping the needle he had been holding in favor of holding down the thrashing dwarf on the table. Dwalin nodded in acknowledgement to the toymaker and continued with his task, grimacing as each scream tore through his ears. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own the Hobbit.**

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**So, this is a new story of mine. Those who have read 'Should starlight fade before battle' might recognise it a little, but other than that, I will say no more. ;) Enjoy. **

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"Grab the door. The door!" a gruff voice half yelled, it's tone piercing the cool evening air.

"Oin wasn't home," a second voice informed, "And I couldn't manage to locate his assistant either."

"We'll have to manage ourselves then. We do not have time to race around trying to find them," the first speaker replied, small amounts of an urgent frenzy dripping through the mostly calm exterior of the spoken words.

Bursting through the door, two figures too in their surroundings, the taller of the pair burdened by a third being in his arms.

"Clear the table," Dwalin said, nodding to where a heap of papers laid strewn across a wooden surface.

"But surely Thorin-"

"Thorin will forgive you given the circumstances," Dwalin growled, "Now hurry or we'll lose him."

"Aye," Bofur grunted in submission.

Without another word, the toymaker swept the papers to the floor, clearing the table situated in the main room of the house Thorin Oakenshield shared with his sister and two nephews. Several bowls shattered as they hit the floor, but neither Bofur nor Dwalin flinched at the sound, and it was only moment later that Dwalin finally relinquished his precious burden.

"I need water and a cloth," the warrior barked, a command which Bofur scurried to fulfill. Turning back to Kili, the bald dwarf grimaced at the wounds the youth had sustained. Blood was clotted in some areas and streaming in others, thankfully all wounds having stopped gushing the red liquid as they had been doing previously right before Dwalin had bound the injured dwarf.

Without hesitation, Dwalin pulled out his hunting knife, the strips of cloak knotted too tightly around Kili's arms and torso to undo by hand. Piling the blood-soaked material by his feet on the floor, the seasoned warrior moved onto the brunette's tunic, contemplating what to do for a brief moment before coming to the decision that what was left of the garment was not worth saving. It did not take long for the burly dwarf to cut away the remains of the ruined tunic leaving Kili's chest naked, but no less bloody. In this time Bofur had reappeared by Dwalin's side, laying the cloth and bowl of water he had retrieved on the table by Kili's motionless head.

"How does it look?" he asked, wringing his hands nervously as he did so.

"I need to sew some of these up," Dwalin replied bluntly, not one for stating the obvious or giving comfort when there was none to be found. Bofur swallowed inaudibly.

"I'll see if I can find some needle and thread," he said with a worried glance at the unconscious youth.

"And a candle, and alcohol if you can find any," Dwalin added as he reached for the items the toymaker had brought him, "I will need to run the needle through a flame to clean it." The warrior had been trained enough in piecing his men back together after battle to know that much.

"And the alcohol?"

"Not ideal, but will help clean his wounds," Dwalin replied before lowering his voice to a mutter, "And I fear we may need a drink or two before this is over."

Bofur nodded at his words and moved off, sparing one last glance at Kili as he done so. Dwalin in turn set his face in a look of determination, drenching the cloth he held in the bowl of water before beginning to wipe away at the dried and running blood which had long since turned his arms and most of Kili's upper torso a scarlet red.

As the burly warrior continued with his task, the water in the bowl became darker and darker, and more than once Dwalin was forced to leave the side of his charge in order to change the water. Cleaning Kili's wounds proved to be a hard task for they were extensive, spanning across most of his chest and right arm, as well as tearing through the flesh of the lad's right shoulder and part of his left arm as well. The lacerations were not deep, but the shredded flesh only split more blood of which Dwalin needed to clear away.

"Bofur," the tattooed dwarf called, "Hurry up!"

"Here you go, here you go," the toymaker answered, bustling into the room with all Dwalin had asked for.

"Light the candle and hold the needle over the fire," Dwalin instructed as he took the bottle of alcohol from Bofur and opened it. Taking a deep breath, he poured it over the smallest of Kili's wounds, swearing when the lad jerked and unhinged his mouth in a scream.

"Easy there, lad. You're alright," Bofur said as he ran over, dropping the needle he had been holding in favor of holding down the thrashing dwarf on the table.

Dwalin nodded in acknowledgement to the toymaker and continued with his task, grimacing as each scream tore through his ears. Blood was gushing everywhere again, making both his and Bofur's hands slippery as they tried to keep a struggling Kili flat against the wooden surface he laid on, or at least flat enough so Dwalin did not have so much difficulty in cleaning his wounds out with the alcohol. The task became easier when Kili fell limp as he gave into the darkness surrounding him unable to stand the pain any longer. The young brunette let out the odd moan or two and his face remained twisted in pain, but he made no further sign he was aware of what was happening around him. At this, Dwalin dropped the bottle in his hands and reached out for the needle.

"Where's the thread?" the seasoned warrior asked of the toymaker opposite him. Bofur quickly fished a spool of black thread out from one pocket and placed it in Dwalin's hand.

"Do you need me to, or can you do it yourself?" he asked, his face pale from the sight he had just witnessed.

"I can manage," Dwalin answered, his face a mask of concentration as he squinted in an effort to poke the thread through the eye of the needle in his hand, fingers wiped clean of any excess blood. It took the burly dwarf several tries, but soon the needle was threaded and ready for use.

"Find something to use as bandages," Dwalin half growled to Bofur who was continuing to watch the proceedings with poorly masked nerves. The toymaker immediately dashed off and, free of any distractions, Dwalin began the grim task of closing up the torn flesh of the young dwarf before him.

In and out, through the skin and then through again, it was with a practiced and steadied hand in which the seasoned warrior sewed the youngest nephew of Thorin Oakenshield up. With his face an impenetrable mask, there was nothing to give away the fact that Dwalin's heart was fluttering away madly within his own chest. There was just so much blood on him, the boy before him, and the table upon which the boy laid.

"There's no bandages around here," Bofur called from within one of the other rooms in the house.

"Then tear up a fresh sheet and make sure it's clean," Dwalin barked back, his eyes still fixated upon the task of which his hands were performing.

A sharp groan cut through the empty space of the room and Dwalin swore silently to himself as Kili showed signs of waking yet again, the brunette's eyes flickering rapidly underneath his eyelids. It would be a good sign any other time, but the last thing either him or Bofur needed was to be stuck the youth, for a conscious Kili would mean another reaction to what could almost be described as an irrational pain.

_Mahal, please keep him under if only for a while longer so I can finish patching him up in peace, _Dwalin prayed desperately, speeding up the process of sewing up the wounds that had been dealt to Kili as much as he could without risking a mistake because of his hurrying.

The sound of material being ripped filled the house, almost cutting out another moan which Dwalin could barely hear through the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

"Stay under for a little while longer," Dwalin could hear himself muttering to the brunette who laid before him, "Come on, I need you to not wake until I have finished."

Then, almost like a miracle, he was done.

"Here's the bandages," Bofur said, walking back into the room just as Dwalin was setting aside the needle, "Do you need help?"

"If you could support him," Dwalin replied, grabbing the pile of torn linen from Bofur's arms and, lifting one arm of the still unconscious dwarf before him, began to wind the cloth around the now mostly closed injures. Bofur helped where he could, wrapping up Kili's other, less wounded arm before supporting the youth as Dwalin bandaged his chest and shoulder.

"Leave him here or move him to his room?" Bofur asked, brushing away a few loose strands of hair from his face, smudging drying blood over his forehead in the process not that he cared.

"He might as well be comfortable," Dwalin said in answer and without so much as glancing one another, the two dwarves each took one end of the young brunette and carried him to his bed where they set him gently down.

"We need Oin," Bofur said quietly, breaking the stretch of silence which had begun to fill the room.

"Aye," Dwalin agreed, "We may have stopped the bleeding, but I'm afraid there are a lot more injuries he may have yet suffered, both visible and not."

Bofur frowned, his eyes tracing a line of an already darkening patch of skin with worry.

"Shall I go or you?" he asked, glancing up at the taller dwarf opposite him. Dwalin's face bore a grim look.

"I will," he said in answer, "I can explain what happened better than you can. Watch him."

"Will do," Bofur answered as they both exited the room, Dwalin to find Oin, Bofur to grab a chair.

The toymaker gave Dwalin a clap on the shoulder as the gruff warrior stood in the doorway before disappearing back into the room where Kili now laid. Dwalin shot one last look in the direction of the wounded dwarf and sent a quick prayer to the gods, hoping beyond anything that the young lad would still be breathing upon his return.

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**So, are you intrigued yet? Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow, 15 reviews for one chapter, and a first chapter at that! How did that happen? In any case, here is the next chapter (though the updates may vary between the time it takes as I will be a lot busier from Thursday onwards). I hope you enjoy it.****  
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Bofur sighed, staring at the youth that laid on the bed before him. The toymaker begun to fidget with a loose thread on his tunic before sighing again, leaning back on the chair he sat on as he rubbed his face with his still bloodied hands. Kili did not look good, face pale and slack as the young brunette continued to remain captive to the grip of unconsciousness.

Not for the first time Bofur prayed that Dwalin would hurry up and arrive with the healer.

"You'll be alright, lad, you'll have to," the toymaker said aloud in response to a small moan of agony piercing the otherwise silent air that remained heavy with the scent of fear, sweat and drying blood. Bofur made to take hold of one of Kili's hands, but then withdrew, unsure whether or not the action would cause more pain to the young dwarf. As it was, two of the fingers on Kili's right hand were bent at an awkward angle and a nasty bruise was forming on the back of his left.

Someone would have to inform the lad's family of what had transpired, something which Bofur wanted to avoid for as long as possible even if he was the one lumped with the responsibility which was, in itself, highly unlikely. While both Dis and Fili would be away for at least another week, visiting a town not five days' journey from their own village, Thorin had remained behind with his youngest nephew. The stoic leader was known to be intimidating at the best of times, and where his sister and her sons were concerned, he was overprotective at the best, much like a mother bear was over her cubs.

Bear; it probably wasn't the best comparison given the circumstances.

The creak of a door opening shook Bofur from his worried thoughts. With a glance towards the still motionless and otherwise incapacitated boy on the bed, the toymaker got up from his chair, a small frown upon his face. Dwalin would have announced his arrival loud and clear enough for those on the other side of the mountains to hear. That left few options, most ones Bofur did not like.

"What in Durin's name has happened here?" cried a deep voice, one that had Bofur relaxing his tense grip on the candlestick in his hand, the toymaker relieved those who had just entered were not thieves or other such beings baring similar dark intentions.

Placing the makeshift weapon on a small table near the door, Bofur took a step out of Kili's room bringing himself face to face with Balin and one of the three people he wanted to see the least at that point in time.

"Did you slaughter a pig in here?" Thorin asked incredulously as he gestured to the blood coated table, puddles of the scarlet liquid evident on the floor. Bofur grimaced at the question, his face going from serious to grim in a matter of seconds.

"I wish that were the case," the toymaker answered, none of his usual cheer evident in his bleak words.

"Then what-"

"Kili," Bofur answered in short, cutting Balin off midsentence, "Dwalin has gone to fetch Oin."

Thorin's face immediately drained of all colour leaving his skin ghostly pale. Bofur knew that the dwarf haired dwarf knew that Kili was supposed to be on a hunting trip with Dwalin, so who could blame the dwarfish leader if he was feeling a bit faint over the amount of his nephew's blood that had been spilled.

"Are you alright?" asked Bofur, Balin offering Thorin a chair even as the older dwarf glanced worriedly into the room where Kili laid. Thorin, however, brushed off the other two dwarves, Bofur stepping aside as the clearly rattled dwarf strode past him only to drop to his knees by his unconscious nephew's side.

"What happened?" he asked, voice strangely hoarse. Bofur took a deep breath, stepping back into the room, Balin hovering by his side.

"There was an accident," the toymaker said, his own voice shaky and weak, "And it somehow ended in a bear attack. Dwalin and I managed to stop most of the bleeding, but there is no guarantee that he will survive the next day, let alone the night. He was loosing a lot of blood when Dwalin rode in, and that was before we got here, and if a trained healer does not get here soon…"

"You said my brother was getting Oin," Balin spoke from beside the toymaker. Bofur nodded.

"Dwalin seemed fine when I saw him," he replied, answering the unspoken question the older dwarf had implied, "But there was no way of telling whether the blood that covered him was all Kili's."

"Do you know of the bear?" Thorin asked from where he was still kneeled. Bofur shook his head, worried eyes flashing back to the exiled king.

"I only know what I have already said," he answered, "There was not much time for Dwalin to delve into the details."

Silence flew through the room again, no one wanting to speak least the sound of Kili breathing should fail without them noticing. The small and uneven noise might have, at any other time, meant little to the three dwarves in the room, yet at that moment it was all that showed the young dwarf before them was still clinging to life.

"He's through there," a gruff and slightly breathless voice answered causing three out of four heads to look up in anticipation. They did not have to wait long for only a moment later Oin was pushing his way into the room, Dwalin walking in his wake. Bofur sent a quick prayer of thanks up to the skies, the sight of the old healer sending a much needed wave of relief through him.

"Are you alright?" came Balin's concerned voice as his brother moved past him.

"I am fine," came Dwalin's answer, his tunic and forearms still dark with now dried blood. Bofur noticed droplets of sweat mixing with smears of red on the taller dwarf's forehead, and it was with a fleeting thought the toymaker absently wondered how the seasoned warrior must have looked to passersby as he had run all out to get to Oin.

Bofur chased such thinking from his head, focusing back on what was really important. It was with baited breath that he watched the only healer present observe Kili, making note of the young dwarf's injuries as well as the combined efforts of both Dwalin and Bofur.

"Bear attack you said?" Oin asked as he examined the hoof shaped print on Kili's left hand.

"After his mount threw him and ran off, spooked," Dwalin replied in a loud and clear voice, one that the healer would have no trouble hearing, "I don't know about the fall, but I am sure the pony only got his arm."

"I would agree with that," Oin answered before beginning to unwind the bandages on the arm of the hand he had been holding previously, "Though he has sustained some damage in the fall."

"He was also thrown back by the bear," Dwalin informed, his voice barely masking the worry displayed on his face, a face which usually bore a harsh look if any. Bofur would happily exchange anything to get that look back on the burly dwarf's face if it meant Kili would not be laying so broken on the bed.

"Will he be alright?" the toymaker heard himself ask, a question he had thought would have already been voiced by Thorin, but the dark haired dwarf seemed to shocked to say or do much of anything save stare at the face of his youngest nephew.

"I cannot say for certain," Oin answered, "Not at least, until I have checked all his wounds." The healer then turned to Dwalin. "This is your work, is it not?" he asked, gesturing to stiches in Kili's arm. Dwalin nodded.

"Aye, and I was sure to clean the wound with both water and alcohol first," the bald dwarf answered. Oin grunted in acknowledgement.

"Crude, but it will do," he said as he unwrapped the rest of the makeshift bandages.

It was some time before the healer was finished, and by then Bofur's nerves were more on edge than he had ever remembered them being. Oin's face gave away nothing, a blank mask of concentration as he continued to look over his patient, clicking his tongue every now and then in thought. The grey bearded dwarf had barely finished splinting Kili's two clearly broken fingers when Thorin uttered his first words in a long while.

"How is he?"

Oin sighed at the question, not one to lie, but clearly not wanting to say the truth of the matter. Bofur's heart began to race faster at the look on the healer's face.

"The wounds he received are mostly flesh wounds," Oin said in answer to Thorin's question, "He does have two broken fingers, but the hand where the pony trod is only bruise as are his ribs. That is not to say, however, that the boy is out of the woods."

Bofur swallowed drily at this news, closing his eyes for a moment before reopening them to stare down at the unconscious brunette as he continued to listen to Oin.

"There is a very good chance Kili will succumb to fever; whether it will become high enough to threaten his life I do not know, but it would be best to try to avoid such a situation as much as we can," the healer continued, "Likewise with infection. With luck, his wounds will not become infected, but in a case like this, I would leave nothing to luck. The amount of blood he lost, judging from the table in the next room and both Dwalin and Bofur, is worrying enough and I fear he will not regain consciousness for some time, certainly not tomorrow in any case."

Oin began to rattle off a list of instructions to Thorin, instructions which Bofur listened carefully too. The toymaker wanted to help out all he could, especially since he knew that Thorin had duties other than his nephew to attend to. Oin eventually finished speaking and stepped out of the room to prepare several brews for when Kili did wake. Balin observed the scene with a grim look before nodding his head to Thorin.

"I will return tomorrow or the day after to collect those papers," he said in as kindly a voice as he could manage before bidding goodbye to the occupants of the room and exiting.

"I should return with my brother," Dwalin said soon after, not moving a muscle as he spoke, "It is late and I am sure you want to be alone."

Thorin nodded to his friend and then Dwalin too was gone, but not before leaning down to murmur a few inaudible words to Kili. Bofur found he was the only one left in the room aside from Thorin and his nephew.

"I think I'll remain, if it's all the same to you," the toymaker said, "You and Oin may need an extra pair of hands at some stage, ad my house is located on the other side of town. It is far too dark for my liking to go there now. I'll be in the other room with Oin, I'll clean up a little as well."

"Thank you," Thorin managed to mumble, shooting a grateful glance in the direction of the toymaker. Bofur, in turn, managed a small smile back in the direction of Kili's uncle.

"I'm sure he will be fine," he heard himself saying, "He is strong and stubborn."

"We will have to hope so," Thorin replied softly, stroking the brown hair splayed out on the cushion before him tenderly.

Bofur took his leave at that moment, giving the dark haired dwarf a much needed moment alone with his youngest nephew. Closing the door partially behind him so it was still easy to access, the toymaker sighed before gathering up a bowl of water and a cloth.

"These stains aren't going to clean themselves," Bofur informed himself softly, trying to muster up the motivation to get to work cleaning the blood from earlier on, but soon found he could not.

"Do you think he will be alright?" he asked as Oin drifted past. The old healer merely sighed.

"We can only hope," he replied, "We can only hope."

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**Is it too much to ask for a review?**


	3. Chapter 3

**I have decided that Kili is around the age of 16 in human years (don't ask for that in dwarf years ;). Anyway, here is another chapter for you, and thanks for all the reviews. I am glad you all find this story interesting.**

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Dwalin stared at his hands knowing he should wash them yet unable to force his body to cooperate and his mind to focus. The blood on his hands was Kili's, a dwarf who was still a boy, though he was admittedly nearing adulthood with every passing year. Never the less, Kili was a youth Dwalin had sworn to protect, at least while the young brunette was within his vicinity. Then he had decided to take the lad hunting and look at what had come from that.

"Are you alright?" a soft voice asked from behind him.

Dwalin merely grunted, finally plunging his hands into the basin of lukewarm water before him. Tendrils of red began to swirl off his hands, darkening the water and reminding the seasoned warrior of the same red blood running down Kili's arms and chest, the same red which had sent his mind reeling.

"Do you want some help?" the voice behind him questioned. Dwalin frowned but did not turn around.

"I do not need you help to wash, brother," he said in a tone a fraction harsher than he intended for it to be. Balin, however, took this all in good stead.

"You are upset," the older dwarf said much to Dwalin's exasperation.

"Can you not just leave me be?" he snapped, the worry and guilt fueling his frustration. Balin somehow knew this and merely heaved a sigh, settling himself into a more permanent position behind his brother.

"It was not your fault," the white bearded dwarf said. Dwalin maintained his frown. Sometimes his brother knew him too well.

"I was meant to be watching out for him," Dwalin answered, bringing his hands up to splash water onto his arms, the mix of water and blood running down his skin and back into the bowl.

"You managed to save him from the bear," Balin replied, "Is that not enough?"

"I should have killed the beast," Dwalin growled, knuckles turning white as he gripped the basin with strong hands.

"So the bear is not dead?" Balin sounded almost shocked.

"Unfortunately no," his younger brother answered, the bald dwarf glaring stonily ahead into nothing, "I managed to drive it off and might have pursued if Kili had not been bleeding all over the ground and in extreme pain."

Dwalin could almost feel his brother thinking behind him, the older dwarf mulling over thoughts only known to him. Dwalin himself was deep in thought, thinking of the numerous ways he could have somehow prevented such a situation, let alone the outcome of it. However, as long a period of time the burly dwarf thought, nothing came to mind. The simple answer to Dwalin's inability to find a solution was that Kili, no matter how skilled he was in certain areas, attracted trouble and usually the worst of it. The young brunette had been visited by healers more time than his brother who was five years older than him. He also had a reputation for receiving all kinds of injuries which more often than not saw him locked up inside a house for days at a time. There was only one way to describe a being with such a tendency to get hurt; reckless. This was why Dwalin refused to accept that he was not to blame for the situation, refused to accept the fact that it was just in Kili's nature to get hurt. With the way the world was, the youth would one day find himself in battle where it was widely known that those with a streak of recklessness were the first to go. Dwalin was afraid that such a fate would meet the youngest of the line of Durin, and it was because of this that he burdened himself with guilt he need not have borne.

"You're brooding, brother."

Balin's voice startled Dwalin who had been so deep in his own thoughts he had forgotten the other dwarf was behind him.

"I am merely thinking," the tattooed dwarf replied, glancing down at the basin before him only to find that the water needed changing. It was not surprising. There had been a lot of blood.

"No," Balin argued, "You are brooding. I know you well enough to know when you are upset, brother. Sometimes I think you forget I have known you all your life."

Dwalin had no answer to this, nothing to say to his brother to prove that he was wrong. Instead the bald warrior took up the bowl before him and threw its contents into a bucket by his feet before grabbing a nearby pitcher and filling it again. He allowed the simple task of cleansing himself of Kili's blood to overtake him, to lull himself into an otherwise thoughtless state. Dwalin knew he would need to bathe, but it was too late a time to do so meaning he would have to wait until morning. For now, however, the tall dwarf would do what he could if only to try and eliminate the memories of recent events. By the time he was done, Balin had long since disappeared to some other place within the house.

Dwalin was glad to be alone; it gave him time to think, time to gather himself after being shaken so badly. As the seasoned warrior emptied the basin of bloody water into the bucket for the last time he tried to remember the last time he had been so afraid. He hadn't been for a long time in any case, that much Dwalin knew, and certainly not so afraid that someone he knew might not make it.

The tattooed dwarf set the basin down by the now empty pitcher before drying his upper half and grabbing the fresh tunic his brother had no doubt left him. Pulling on the clean garment, Dwalin allowed it to fall loosely past the waistband of his trousers, rolling the sleeves up to give his arms a small amount of freedom. The cold air of the night grasped at the dwarf's exposed skin, but Dwalin found it refreshing, the bite of the air awaking his senses more than anything. He wanted to sleep, to let the terrible day fade away until it was nothing more than a bad dream.

Walking out of the room, Dwalin made for his own bed drifting past the chairs by the fireplace in the process.

"Are you hurt?" Balin asked from where he sat hidden, the worry evident in his voice causing the white bearded dwarf's younger brother to pause, if only for a moment.

"I am not," Dwalin replied with only the slightest of hesitations. It was not a lie.

"Would you tell me if you were?"

"Brother, I am fine," Dwalin insisted, turning so that he could catch a glimpse of the back of Balin's head.

"You were attacked by a bear, Dwalin," the older of the two brother's replied, desperation ringing clear in his voice, "You could not have walked away from that unscathed."

"No," Dwalin disagreed, "Kili was attacked by a bear. I merely leapt to his defence."

"_Are you hurt?"_

Dwalin sighed, knowing there was only one way he would be able to reassure his brother.

"Balin, I am fine," he said as he crouched down beside the chair where his elder brother sat, "You can even look for yourself. The bear did not harm me and nor did anything else out there. The only injuries I might have sustained would be one or two bruises from where Kili struck me as Bofur and I were tending to his wounds, and I do not blame the lad for he was in extreme pain and did not comprehend what we were doing."

"Let me…let me see," Balin said, stumbling over his trembling words. Dwalin gave his brother a reassuring smile before tugging his tunic over his head for a second time that night.

The light from the fireplace illuminated Dwalin's naked skin, Balin running his old hands over his younger brother's chest in search of wounds the latter might have been hiding. When the older of the two was certain Dwalin was not injured in any manner he let out a small gasp of relieved air.

"See, brother," Dwalin said softly as he replaced the tunic he had been holding in his hands, "I am fine. There is no need for you to worry over me."

"There is always a need," Balin replied weakly, grasping Dwalin's face between his hands and looking down upon the kneeling dwarf, "You are my younger brother and it is my duty to look out for you."

"I can take care of myself," Dwalin replied gently, bringing up his hands to cover Balin's own, "You will not lose me so easily."

"I do not want to lose you at all," Balin answered.

The older dwarf's words faded into the air, leaving only the sound of a crackling fire in its wake. Dwalin kept his hands on his brother's, moving to press his forehead to Balin's. Both dwarves sat there for a long while, unmoving as they shared the quiet and brotherly moment. Their relationship ran deep roots, roots which would be nigh impossible to destroy or corrupt, if at all. Bonded in blood the two brothers felt what each other felt and knew what the other thought. This night was no different and it was the concern which Balin soon voiced was a concern that plagued the both of them.

"There have been few bear attacks in my life time," the white bearded dwarf began to state, "And they are widely known not to end well more often than not."

"Kili is stronger than most," Dwalin replied, trying to reassure himself and his brother with the same words, "And even if he is to leave, he will not do so without his brother by his side. Fili would not allow it."

"Fili is not here to ensure that," Balin countered.

"But Thorin is," Dwalin answered, "And he would sooner face the Defiler again than allow his nephew to slip through his fingers before his time.

"That may not be enough though," Balin argued, a crease born of worry and fear furrowing his eyebrows, "If fever were to set in and infection-"

"Then we will have to hope that will not be the case," Dwalin answered, his expression one of grim seriousness. Balin sighed in response, finally pulling entirely away from his brother.

"You should get some sleep," he said, "And with luck, the poor lad will still be with us in the morning."

Dwalin contained a yawn.

"Aye, a sleep would do me good," the tattooed dwarf replied before standing and bidding a good night to his brother. He would stop by Thorin's house in the morning, but until then he supposed he should take his brother's advice and rest.

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**So, what do you ****think? (More Kili next chapter, I promise ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the long update, but there is a chance it could get worse. I don't have as much time to write now so I hope my chapters make up for it. So I hope you enjoy this one.**

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Despite the events which had taken place only the night before, the morning of a new day came soon enough. To Bofur, however, the dawn was far from swift and it was only after hours of worry and sleeplessness that he greeted the first light with reddened eyes and a mouth turned down at the corners.

The toymaker was in a fresh tunic, Thorin having left Kili's side only once to offer the garment for Bofur to use in place of the bloodstained tunic he had been wearing. His hands and arms were clear of the blood which had covered them the night before and it was with a strong sense of relief that Bofur relished in being clean again. Everything didn't look as dire when one wasn't covered in the scarlet life force of another.

The table upon which Kili had been laying upon before was also clean, no longer presenting a sight that would send whoever walked in through the door into shock. This was Bofur's doing, something which he was proud of. Having cleaned up the room in Thorin's house had meant the toymaker had no chance to sleep, however, and it was with bleary eyes that Bofur glanced up at Oin as he made his slow way out of the room which hosted Kili.

"How is he?" the toymaker asked, stretching his arms and legs as he lifted himself from the chair upon which he had been sitting for the last hour. Oin merely sighed, his look as despondent as ever.

"Fever has set in," the healer replied, his voice weary from the task of tending to the youngest of the line of Durin.

"What? Already?" Bofur found himself exclaiming in disbelief, all thoughts of his own tiredness gone. Oin merely shook his head.

"It is not all that surprising," the grey bearded healer answered, "In fact, it took a while longer to appear than I expected."

"What can I do to help?" Bofur asked, glancing towards the open door through which he could catch a small glimpse of a still unconscious Kili and the bowed figure of Thorin by the youth's side. The lad's uncle had hardly left his side since he had first learned of Kili's predicament, and what was more was that the dwarfish leader had made it clear that he would not be leaving his youngest nephew's side until the boy's eyes were at least open.

"There is not much you or even I can do," Oin said in a tired voice, bringing Bofur's attention back to him, "All we can do is try to keep the fever down and ensure that none of his wounds become infected. I cannot force the lad to drink anything that might help with him still unconscious for he might choke, and neither can I perform miracles."

"We may soon be in need of a miracle if Kili's condition turns out to be as bad as you make it out to be," Bofur muttered under his breath causing Oin to raise one eyebrow before relenting to the toymaker's words.

"I fear you may be right," the healer said bleakly as he drifted to the table where his bowl and pestle lay waiting. Bofur withheld a sigh and took the bowl of water from were the healer had placed it.

"Do you want me to-" he began, but Oin cut him off before the toymaker could finish, not that there was any need.

"That would be a great help," the healer replied as he sat down and begun grinding away at various herbs again.

Bofur gave the healer a nod of acknowledgement before taking up a cloth and entering the room of the invalid. Thorin looked up from where he sat, bleary eyed but still refusing any offers of sleep both Oin and Bofur made him. The dwarfish leader gave the toymaker a grim twist of the lips before turning back to where his youngest nephew laid motionless on the bed, the single sheet covering him already sticky with sweat.

Bofur sat down without much fuss, balancing the bowl on his knee as he dragged the cloth in his hand through the water and then across Kili's heated forehead. The silence in the room was almost deafening, the dwarf opposite the toymaker clearly willing Kili to open his eyes. Bofur was doing his own private willing as well, willing the fever to break though it had only just begun. The young dwarf between the two adults did not respond to either of the things willed of him and remained as shut eyed and fever ridden as before.

"It is a hard fight I fear we have ahead of us," Bofur remarked, finally unable to withstand the silence any longer. Thorin merely grunted, stroking the back of his nephew's right hand as his smoky grey-blue eyes roved around the battered body of the young brunette.

"But is he strong enough to make it?" came Thorin's uncharacteristically soft voice, "If he should fall to fever or infection…"

The dwarfish leader never finished his sentence, but the words to end it did not need to be spoken. Bofur knew of the ways Kili's predicament could play out, both bad and good. He also had some idea as to how the lad's family would react to his passing. As the toymaker passed the drenched cloth in his hand over the brow of the invalid yet again he glanced down to where the white bandages stood out against Kili's skin.

Bofur remembered all too well the terrible night which had preceded the dawn; he had never felt as terrified in his life as when Dwalin had rode in on his mount, blood everywhere as he supported Kili whose face had been unnaturally slack and pale. When Dwalin had half shouted at him to bring Oin to Thorin's house the toymaker had not hesitated to obey, racing as fast as he could to the healer's house using alleys and shortcuts he would have otherwise avoided. Bofur had ended up out of breath and banging hard on Oin's door only to be informed that both he and his assistant were out seeing patients.

The usually cheery toymaker had weighed up the decision of pursuing Oin, but the image of Kili had refused to leave his mind and it was without a second thought that Bofur had spent the rest of his energy making his way swiftly to the house of Thorin Oakenshield in order to offer his help to Dwalin. Upon reaching the house, the toymaker had been just in time to see Dwalin about to enter, an unconscious and wounded Kili cradled carefully in his arms. It was a sight that had thrilled Bofur in all the wrong ways, terror having flashed through him as well as panic.

The emotions he had felt before were beginning to well up again in the face of his hopelessness to help the young dwarf now laying on the bed before him. Wiping Kili's brow appeared to be achieving nothing and frustration was beginning to rear its ugly head as Bofur wished that someone could just turn up and magic the young lad's ailments away.

A knock on the door had the toymaker raising his head in curiosity, wondering who it could be at this early hour. Thorin saw this and reached out his hands to take the bowl and cloth from the dwarf before him.

"I can take over," the dwarfish leader said. Bofur nodded in understanding and stood, leaving the room after handing over the objects he held to Thorin.

It was with a small frown of interest that the toymaker stared as the door opened to reveal the intimidating form of Dwalin and the smaller form of the tall dwarf's older brother.

"How is the lad?" Balin asked as he entered through the door first, his worried gaze straying to the open door Bofur had just come through and the room beyond.

"Not good," Oin answered before entering the room where Kili laid in an unnatural state.

"How so?" Dwalin growled, not liking the broadness of the old healer's answer. Bofur too felt annoyed at Oin, not liking that he had been left to deliver the news.

"Fever," the toymaker managed to mumble, watching the faces of the two brother's before him blanch white at the news.

"When?" was all Balin could say.

"Dawn," Bofur replied with some reluctance, "Or thereabouts."

"It will only grow worse," Balin said, rubbing his face with his hands.

Bofur had no words of optimism to follow up the older dwarf's statement. There was nothing he could say that had even the slightest chance of lightening the dark and bleak atmosphere that had settled over the house of the line of Durin. The toymaker who was expected to see the light. He was the one who was supposed to see the silver lining of the blanket of blackened clouds rolling over them, yet he was speechless, voiceless against such a seemingly hopeless cause. If not even Bofur could think up something to say, it was a surprise when the dwarf who spoke the least was the one who spoke to break the grim silence which had fallen swiftly with Balin's last words.

"But it has not," Dwalin said in response to his brother, "It has not grown worse yet. There is still hope he will survive this."

A moan broke free of the room behind the three and Bofur, Dwalin and Balin all turned to see the covers on Kili's bed toss around as the youth beneath them shifted position. Bofur was first through the door, both Oin and Thorin looking up to read the unspoken question in the toymaker's eyes.

"I'm afraid he still has not woken," Oin said as Thorin went back to dabbing his nephew's fevered forehead. The three dwarves in the doorway exhaled previously anticipating breaths with disappointment.

"Then what was that earlier?" Dwalin asked, his dark eyebrows furrowing together, his earlier optimistic mood turning sour as the short bout of hope they had all felt was crushed.

"He's in pain," the healer replied.

"Then give him something for it!"

"I can't," Oin snapped back. Bofur turned his head back to Dwalin to wait for the warrior's response only to see the bald dwarf take a deep breath and a step back as Balin laid a calm hand on his arm.

The white bearded dwarf guided his younger brother out of the room leaving only Oin, Thorin and Bofur in the vicinity of the unconscious Kili. The toymaker looked after the pair who had just left before looking down at his feet.

He had been at Thorin's house since the early evening of yesterday when Dwalin had turned up with a wounded Kili in tow, as well as the morning that was coming to a close even as he stood and thought about his options. Bifur would be worrying, as would Bombur for every moment he delayed in returning, yet Bofur could not, in good conscience, leave the house when Kili still remained in a bad way and was steadily growing worse for it seemed that the lad's fever was rising.

"You should go," Thorin said, the deep tones of his voice vibrating through the air as he took notice of Bofur's inner conflict.

"You will tell me if anything changes?" the toymaker asked, his hazel eyes flashing with concern and a desperate plea. Thorin nodded, his own blue-grey eyes filled with a deep and haunting despair.

With a sigh, Bofur sent one last glance in the direction of the bed, watching as Oin inspected the bandages of the boy who laid upon it. He gave a small consoling smile in the direction of Thorin before turning his back upon the scene before him and walking to the door leading out of the house, nodding to both Dwalin and Balin as he left.

"Look after him," he murmured quietly. Dwalin replied with a solemn look.

"We will."

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**Would it be too much to ask for a review?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Got this up earlier than expected... In any case, enjoy. And thanks for all the reviews - past 50 already and for four chapters!**

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Dwalin watched as the door shut close behind the retreating form of the toymaker. The warrior's last words to Bofur hung in the air, the short phrase a binding promise to which Dwalin had made binding for both him and his brother.

_We will._

"I need to speak to Thorin," Dwalin heard Balin say beside him. The tall warrior looked down on his older brother.

"I doubt you will be able to draw him away from Kili's side," Dwalin commented, a grim look upon his face.

"It would only be for a brief moment or two," Balin admonished, "And I need the documents for which I came here for yesterday. Thorin also needs to decide how he will inform both Fili and Dis on what has occurred to their youngest kin as well."

Dwalin rubbed his face with a hand for he had forgotten the issue of Kili's two remaining family members who were still in the dark about the bear attack. The pair were still not due back for a while and in that while anything could happen, something which Dwalin was increasingly fearful of. Again guilt flooded the tattooed dwarf's mind at having not protected his young charge better, but Dwalin quickly brushed the feeling aside, focusing back on his brother.

"You were always better at reasoning with him," Dwalin said gruffly, crossing his arms as he did so. Balin sent him a withering glance knowing that his younger sibling has purposely pushed the task of dragging Thorin away from his nephew's bedside on purpose.

"He needs a break from that room in any case," Balin muttered under his breath before directing his next words at his brother, "Don't go anywhere."

"Wasn't planning on it," Dwalin responded, his words going unheard as his brother disappeared into the room of the injured in order to draw Thorin out.

The seasoned warrior dropped heavily into a seat by the table which had so recently witnessed Dwalin's efforts to save the life of his friend's youngest nephew first hand. Dis would not be pleased that he had allowed such harm to come to her youngest son, she would be outraged even and rightly so. If Dwalin were in Dis' place, he would be livid with himself, but Dis was still travelling and would not be back to cast judgment for some time.

"I left the papers on the table," Thorin said, the dwarfish leader's words floating to Dwalin in the warrior's state of detachment from the world surrounding him.

"They are not there," Balin answered causing Dwalin to snap his head up.

"I left them on the table yesterday and have not touched them since," Thorin replied as Dwalin silently took in the sight before him and the conversation going on between his brother and his friend.

Both Balin and Thorin were crossing the room towards him from the doorway they had just exited, Dwalin's brother having somehow managed to wrangle Thorin out of the room. Balin was making to reply to Thorin's last statement when both dwarves froze, all words halting in their mouths as the pair stared ahead of them. Dwalin followed the gaze of the two dwarves to the table and then to the floor. He then turned back to his brother and Thorin, deciding to jump in before something snapped in either one or both of them at the pile of bloodied papers on the floor.

"We had to move them to make room," Dwalin explained a little sheepishly as he watched Thorin closely, the dwarfish leader's face frozen in a blank expression, all colour having faded rom his face.

Balin took two swift steps over to the stained red documents on the floor, sweeping up a few before shaking his head as eh realized he could not save the written work.

"Never mind," the white bearded dwarf said as he crumpled the sheets of paper in his hands, "I do not need them urgently as of yet."

Thorin did not seem to hear the old dwarf's words and Dwalin quickly guided his friend into a chair as the dark haired dwarf began to collapse in on himself.

"Tell me how it happened," Thorin said beseechingly to the tattooed dwarf as he dropped his head to his hands in despair. Dwalin looked to his brother for guidance, not wanting to depart the horrific incident to anyone, let alone Thorin, but Balin too looked curious and at an encouraging nod from the white bearded dwarf Dwalin took in a breath to begin his tale.

"There was a deer," the seasoned warrior said, mentally readying himself for the memories that would no doubt assault him as he parted with them, "Kili had his bow drawn, ready to shoot it. His pony caught scent of the bear which we could not see at the time and bucked, throwing the lad and causing him to loose his grip on the string of the bow. The arrow went flying into the bushes where the bear was lurking."

The faces of the two dwarves opposite Dwalin blanched stark white, both knowing that such a shot would have enraged the bear, and to enrage a bear was to have a death wish. A mass of almost unstoppable flesh, a single adult bear could tower over a man. To a dwarf, they were giants to be avoided at all costs.

"Kili was winded from landing on the ground and the pony had skimmed over his hand with a hoof," Dwalin continued, his voice now noticeably shaking as he unconsciously clenched his hands at the thought of the attack, "He…he barely had time to stand before the bear was upon him. It caught him in the chest with a paw, throwing him back where it proceeded to tear into Kili's arms which he had thrown up to protect his face. It happened so fast; by the time I had opened a large gash in the beast's flank your nephew was already lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood."

Dwalin was now speaking directly to Thorin as though trying to both put up a defence and apologise for his actions and the fact that he had let something so bad happen to the dwarfish leader's youngest kin.

"The bear retreated when it became clear that killing the boy would not be as easy as he had thought," the seasoned warrior said without the vicious relish that would have usually accompanied his words at the talk of defeating an enemy, and as soon as he had finished his last sentence, Dwalin let silence claim his tongue.

Thorin sat bolt upright in the chair he was seated in, every possible look of horror and dismay fighting for a place upon his face. Balin stood beside the dark haired dwarf, his own face unreadable as his eyes looked frozen in Dwalin's direction. Dwalin allowed his usually strong shoulders to crumple and sag, the guilt he had pushed away earlier now running rabid in his mind.

"I am sorry," he breathed softly, still speaking only to his old friend, "So sorry." This seemed to shock Thorin out of his state of incomprehension and a frown found its way onto the dwarfish leader's face.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked sounding genuinely confused. Dwalin avoided the dwarf's smoky blue eyes as Thorin tried to determine what it was exactly that the warrior was apologising for.

"Had I seen the bear, realized it was there…" Dwalin managed to get out, fumbling for words as he tried to find a way to explain his guilt, explain why exactly Thorin should be mad at him.

"It wasn't your fault, brother," Balin cut in before Dwalin could voice more of his apparent faults in handling the situation, "I have told you this before."

"I was supposed to be watching out for him," Dwalin argued, eyes still locked on the floor by his feet, "He was under my care and therefore my responsibility."

"You could not have anticipated a bear attack," Thorin spoke up in an effort to cut through his friend's self imposed misery, "And Kili has always been one to attract trouble. It is not your fault and nor do I blame you for what has happened."

"But-"

"I do not blame you," Thorin repeated, crouching opposite Dwalin and pressing his forehead to the warrior's.

"Dis will though," Dwalin muttered despondently.

"That remains to be seen," the tattooed dwarf's brother said sharply from above, "And on that note, it also remains to be seen whether or not Dis and Fili will be told of what has happened."

Thorin stood at this last part at the same time Dwalin raised his head. The three dwarves present knew that Kili's mother and brother needed to be informed of all that had befallen him, yet they were most likely travelling even as the thought entered Balin, Dwalin and Thorin's mind and so would be almost impossible to reach. As it was, it was still a decision Thorin had to make.

"They will be told once they return," the dark haired dwarf finally stated. Balin frowned and Dwalin closed his eyes for a brief moment, hoping his brother was not about to argue with Thorin's decision. There was enough drama going on in his life as it was without the need for his older brother and his friend to argue.

"You cannot just leave them in the dark about this," Balin insisted, his voice rising slightly with the passion of which laced his words.

"It would be impossible to reach them now," Thorin countered, his face darkening as his temper began to brush its fingers against his mind, "They would have left the village by now and have at least a four day journey ahead of them. How do you suppose I contact them?"

"Have someone ride out and meet them halfway," Balin suggested.

"And if they take a different rout?" Thorin asked, "No, they will be informed upon their return as soon as they set foot inside the gates."

"As you wish," Balin said, finally backing down much to Dwalin's relief.

The seasoned warrior was glad that the two had stopped arguing and he allowed himself to exhale the breath he had been holding silently. His brother's next words, however, sent a cold and dark chord ringing through the Dwalin's mind.

"It may be too late by then," Balin said softly. Thorin's head bowed low as an iron fist squeezed Dwalin's heart.

"I know," the dwarfish leader said, "I know."

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**A review or two might help to secure a certain dwarf's fate... Then again, they might not. ;) Either way, could you please review. **


	6. Chapter 6

**So, thanks to all my lovely reviewers. :) Seriously, you are too good to me to give me so many. In any case, as a reward, here is the next chapter which I hope you enjoy because it is painful having to find words in Khuduzl that make sense when in a sentence. I was also issued a challenge by Aloritha to see how much angst I could fit in before Fili and Dis come and it is a challenge I plan to win (though this chapter may not show that future ones definitely will) ;)**

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"Where have you been?" Bombur asked, his voice coloured with more than just worry and concern.

"Before you condemn me brother," Bofur answered, scraping his boots against the mat on the floor before moving inside the house, "You should hear what I have to say."

"I take it you have a story then," Bombur replied, arms crossed over his chest, the round dwarf clearly not happy with his brother.

It was to Bombur's shock that the dwarf in front of him did not respond with a cheery grin and the beginnings of a tale that stood taller than it did true. Instead the toymaker leaned against the wall, curling in on himself as he sighed despondently.

"Dwalin and Kili returned from their hunting trip on the yesterday just as it was beginning to grow dark," Bofur said in a voice that betrayed his tiredness and despondent state of mind, "There was an accident…"

"What happened?" Bombur inquired, his eyebrows now furrowing out of concern and not anger. Bifur appeared like a shadow behind the round dwarf, his own face impassive as he listened to what his cousin had to say.

"All Dwalin said was that Kili had been attacked," Bofur informed the two dwarves, clearly not wanting to go on.

"By what?" Bombur gasped. His brother hesitated for a long moment before finally gathering himself to answer the question.

"A bear," Bofur elaborated, eyes closing at the memory of the state Dwalin had brought the young lad in, "He lost a lot of blood, a fever has set upon him and he refuses to wake. He may not survive to see the end of this day let alone the return of his brother and mother."

The toymaker was a cheery dwarf by nature and could be accurately described as someone who looked on the bright side of everything. It took a lot to upset him and even more to send the brown eyed dwarf into a state of despair much like the one he was experiencing now, and yet now here he was, unable to see an end to the pitch black tunnel that Bofur had suddenly found himself in.

Bofur knew that this side of him disturbed his brother greatly, yet he could not help it. If life was as cruel to everyone as it was to Kili, a boy who had far from lived his life and had a sunny disposition that Bofur had instantly fell for then what was to say he or Bombur or Bifur wouldn't be next?

"It surely can't be as bad as you are making it put," Bombur put in, his voice hesitant, yet Bofur knew he was not blowing the situation out of proportion.

"Kili vusut gagin," Bifur said in his gruff voice as he moved to pat Bofur on the shoulder, "Zu lu' tarukh achùshum. Amagur lu' zatamarad Kili. Zu tarukh mahdijnû hi."

"You're right," Bofur responded, drawing in a shuddering breath as he regained control of his overflowing emotions, "He still lives. There is still hope while he still lives."

"You should eat something," Bombur broke in, disappearing into the kitchen.

Bofur felt his stomach growl at the thought of food. The toymaker realised he had not eaten since noon the day before, having been travelling back to his house to have dinner. It was just past midday now meaning he had gone a full day without food.

"I'm starving," the toymaker said out loud to the air around him, his cousin smiling at the statement as he guided Bofur into the kitchen after Bombur.

"Then sit, brother, and eat," Bombur called from where he stood. Bofur grinned at him.

"Should I be surprised you have not devoured everything in the pantry yet?"

"I get enough at home," Bombur replied stiffly, "And besides, I doubt you have eaten in a while."

Bofur's stomach rumbled again, reminding the toymaker of his skipped meals. His brother was a good cook when he didn't eat all the food and even now Bofur's mouth was watering in the anticipation of the stew he could already smell simmering away though Bombur had barely begun conjuring his magic upon the food.

"So I take it that wife of yours does not deprive you," Bofur stated. Bombur laughed a little in good nature.

"No, she likes a dwarf with a bit of flesh to him," he said fondly, "Though she is getting rather round herself."

"How long?"

"Still several months yet," Bombur informed his sibling proudly, "Though two wild boys are enough and Azania is hoping for a girl this time around."

"Zu nathith uzarak amad, zu mahzirikh khi balil zu inùdôy," Bifur commented. Bofur grinned.

"Then he had better wish that she would be more like her father," the toymaker said. Bombur did not comment, rather listened as his kinsmen talked.

For a while Bofur's mind was taken off the all too recent events he had found himself a part of. The steaming bowl that his brother eventually placed in front of him had the toymaker salivating at the mouth, and not a moment after he had been given a spoon did Bofur heartily dig in. Once he finished, however, and Bifur and Bombur both sat contently filled beside him, Bofur could not help but allow his mind to stray back to Kili.

Sighing despondently, the toymaker rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Mahal forbid that Kili takes a further turn for the worse," he said to no one in particular.

"And how might he take a…further turn for the worse, as you put it?" Bombur asked, his voice empty of most emotion. Bofur snorted with no amusement behind the sound.

"Infection for starters," he began, "Those are some pretty big wounds he is supporting and if even one of them were to fester it would more than likely not end well."

"But infection can be avoided if you are careful," Bombur said calmly. Bofur, however, was not yet done.

"He could turn out to have an internal injury which Oin missed," the toymaker stated, "And there is nothing much any healer can do if that is the case, especially if it is bad enough to kill him."

"Oin would be hard pressed not to miss anything," Bombur reassured, frowning at his brother's lamentations.

"Everyone makes mistakes," Bofur countered before suddenly changing the tone of his voice, "You didn't see him, see how much blood there was."

"Surely not enough to make you despair like this," Bombur said.

"More than enough," came the toymaker's reply. Bombur sighed, defeated.

"I need to be getting back to Azania and the rest of my family," the round dwarf told his brother and cousin, shooting a meaningful glance in Bifur's direction, "But I will return as soon as I can."

Bofur barely acknowledged the opening of the door as his brother departed, too caught up in the strange yet not unfamiliar feeling of the gloom which had settled over him. The toymaker had felt this way only a handful of times in his life, namely when his parents – namely his mother – had passed from the world and into the halls of Mahal. The same sense of hopelessness that had suffocated him at that time now had returned, confusing him and restricting his ability to see beyond the bad.

"He's got a long journey ahead of us," Bofur said with a dry humor, "Only time will tell whether or not what the end of that journey will be."

Sighing, the toymaker stood and glanced wearily over to Bifur.

"I fear Thorin's time will be well spent in caring for the lad," Bofur remarked, "As will Oin's."

"Izd lu' thadulur bashuk," Bifur's soft voice noted.

"Aye, you are right," Bofur said in reply, his gaze thoughtful and grim.

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**TRANSLATIONS:**

**_Kili vusut gagin _– Kili (will) be healthy again.**

**_Zu lu' tarukh achùshum_ – You do not need to worry.**

**_Amagur lu' zatamarad _– The bear did not kill Kili.**

_**Zu tarukh mahdijnû hi**_** - You need to believe (in) him.**

**_Zu nathith uzarak amad, zu mahzirikh balil zu inùdôy_ - (If) your daughter (is) greatly like (her) mother, you (will) wish it (was) just your sons.**

_**Izd lu' thadulur bashuk - **_**They won't (be the) only ones.**

**Alright, lu' technically means 'no' but I sort of tweaked its meaning because it was the closest I could find to what I needed the word to mean. In any case, the translations are pretty accurate (do not hold me to that). Also, zu in Bifur's second piece of dialogue alternates between you and your (again it was the closest I could find). Izd means they, but again, it was closest to 'them'. Brackets are words that I could not find in Khuduzl, but needed for the sentence (see why doing this is so painful?).**

**In regards to Bombur's wife: the actor who played Bombur (or it might have been one of the others...) said he was the only other dwarf in the company besides Gloin to have a wife so that is where Azania comes in (don't laugh at her name) as well as his children.**

**So, any of you have an opinion to give on this chapter? **


	7. Chapter 7

**Here you go, the next chapter. Hope it has some good feels for you all to lap up. Enjoy.**

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"His temperature has risen again," Oin reported as he moved to refill the bowl he held in his hands with water.

"That would make it the third time today," Balin said in a bleak voice. Dwalin said nothing, his shoulders merely hunching over further.

Thorin had retreated back into what Dwalin now considered the sick room, the dwarfish leader no longer able to stand the awkward silence that had stretched over both him and the sons of Furdin. If Dwalin was in his friend's place, he too would have chosen to be at the side of his injured and ill nephew. The remorse that had been previously banished by Thorin's earlier words came flooding back as the bald warrior once again wished he had not agreed to take Kili hunting.

"He cannot remain by Kili's side forever," Balin commented a while after Oin had disappeared back through the door to the room where Kili laid, "He has duties he needs to attend to and some will not sit ideally by and wait while the fate of his sister's youngest son is decided."

"He will not be drawn away for so long while Kili is still so weak and still with such a grim future hanging over him," Dwalin replied.

"Thorin may be able to get away with ignoring his responsibilities towards his people for a day or so, but it will not be long before something comes up that will force him to act," Balin said as he stood, "In any case, I will wait until later to press the issue."

"Where are you going?"

"To see about the new residence being developed on the east side of this village," came the old dwarf's reply, "I will have to draw up new documents for the construction of the houses in replace of the ones that… In any case, it should be enough to observe the work without them for now."

Dwalin noticed his brother's inability to state why the papers he needed were ruined. The tattooed dwarf knew better than to mention this aloud, however, and merely bided his older sibling a good day as Balin exited the house.

Settling back into the chair so he could mope in further anguish, Dwalin allowed his eyes to trace along a split in the timber of the table before him. With nothing else to distracted him, the seasoned warrior ran a stunted fingernail over the rough surface, pausing for a moment each time his nail became caught it the crack. It was an interesting sensation, the resistance tearing at his nail for a second before his finger broke free of the restraint and continued on its way. This simple action did not take his mind off the matter at hand, however, and it was not long before Dwalin found himself sighing despondently at the world.

What seemed like an age passed as the buff dwarf sat and thought, having nothing better to do. He wondered if there was anything that he could help with for the care of Kili, almost standing to offer his aid before deciding against it at the last moment. The room was small and would be crowded enough as it was with both Thorin and Oin in there already.

Dwalin was just beginning to doze off despite the fact that his stomach, which had not stopped churning since Kili had fallen off his pony, was bubbling with anxiety. The seasoned warrior, however, was abruptly jolted from his dazed like state when Oin came into the room yet again.

"Has there been any change?" Dwalin asked as he sat up a little straighter. Oin shook his head and grimaced.

"No, there has not," the healer answered as he sat down himself. Dwalin sighed quietly to himself. At least Kili's fever had not spiked yet again.

"You are not going back in?"

"There is not much more I can do in there," Oin replied wearily, "I am better off out here where I can create something for him if he does wake. You can join Thorin if you like, though. I know you have been longing to see the lad for yourself."

_If._

Dwalin winced at what the word implied.

"I think I will go in," he murmured. Oin did not acknowledge his words. Dwalin did not pause to repeat them.

The floorboards creaked as the seasoned warrior moved across them. Large hands pushed the door open and then shut it discreetly as startled eyes gazed upon the slumped figure before him.

"Thorin," Dwalin breathed as he reached a hand out to his friend. The dwarfish leader, however, did not react.

Dwalin let his hand fall back to his side as he frowned in concern. If the tall dwarf did not know better he would swear that Thorin was crying.

"Thorin," he said again as he crouched opposite the clearly despondent dwarf. His friend took a moment to run a hand over his face before looking up to respond.

"He is fading away," Thorin said in a despondent voice. Dwalin frowned, tweaking the corner of his lip as he did so.

"It has not even been a day," the warrior answered.

"He is fading all the same," came Thorin's reply. Dwalin looked at the slight form on the bed and could not argue against his leader's words.

"Be as that may," the burly dwarf eventually said, "Oin will not make it easy for him to leave, and neither would you."

"There is nothing I can do for him," Thorin exclaimed, half throwing his hands up in despair. Dwalin frowned again.

"You cannot think that way," the seasoned warrior berated.

"Then what am I supposed to do?" Thorin said, blue-grey eyes downcast and brooding. Dwalin tried to think of an answer he could give, yet however hard he racked his brains the right words always eluded his grasp.

"I don't know," he said in defeat, staring back down at the motionless form of Kili.

The stretch between these last words was only pierced by the heavy breathing of two dwarves and the broken breathing of a third. Through the window it was clear night was beginning its reign, yet neither Dwalin nor Thorin showed any signs of retiring despite both their mental and physical weariness. The only one resting was the youth on the bed, and his rest was far from natural, stemming from the harsh and unforgiving grips of fever.

"I cannot bare to lose him," Thorin said, his voice echoing through the silent air.

A shudder from the bed drew the dwarfish leader's attention, and Thorin ran a cool cloth over his nephew's head, all the while giving voice to the dark thoughts within his head.

"I have lost so many already," the dwarfish leader continued, eyes brimming with years of unshed tears.

Dwalin did not know what to say. He had witnessed Thorin's grief when tragedy had struck the proud dwarf, yet, with all his experience over the years, the tall warrior was still rendered speechless at the sight Thorin's tears.

"If this is all a punishment for something I have done, then why does death not take me instead?" Thorin moaned, "My grandfather was stolen from me as was my father. My brother taken before his time just as Kili will be, leaving Fili behind to mourn just as Frerin left me. I cannot do that to the boy, Dwalin, I cannot let Fili lose his brother so young."

"Then don't."

Thorin looked up, shocked.

"What?" he asked.

"Then don't," Dwalin repeated, large hands clasped beneath his chin, "Don't let Kili fade. Don't let him give in."

Thorin stared at his friend for a long moment before smiling woefully and shaking his head.

"If I could wield that sort of power, Kili would be awake right now. Frerin would be standing beside me and Dis would still have her husband. But I don't, Dwalin," Thorin said, "I may be a leader, your leader, but I do not have the power to bring back those who are already too far down a path I cannot follow."

Thorin's speech came to a shuddering close, Dwalin casting his eyes down to look upon the face of the young lad before him, unable to bring himself to meet his friend's watery gaze a moment longer. Kili's pale and sweaty face however, was a poor substitute. It held just as much as misery as the boy's uncle's, only this misery was a twisted agony.

"You should sleep," Dwalin heard himself saying after a while. Thorin grunted.

"You have been up as long as I have."

"Almost," Dwalin countered, "But I am not the one supporting black circles under my eyes."

"I will not sleep until he is either awake or asleep for good."

"And I will rest when you come to your senses," Dwalin responded, folding his arms over his chest and leaning back against the chair he sat in.

It did not take long for Thorin to fall into the grips of the very slumber he longed to evade, Dwalin watching with a barely suppressed grin as his esteemed leader dozed off. Oin came in and out, quiet in his work and as tender as ever as he handled to limp form of Kili.

"How bad will it get?" Dwalin heard himself asking at one point. Oin had merely sighed in response.

"I can only guess at what the next few days will bring."

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**Would you be so kind as to review?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry for the late update. This may be a bit of a filler, but I hope it still makes up for the long update. In any case, heaps more Kili angst in Bofur's next point of view, I promise. ;)**

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When dawn finally chose to embraced the world around it, the new day noted two figures of interest. One lay on a bed rasping for air with a fever ravaging his already feeble body. The second was hurrying to find the fate of the first, darting along the streets in the brisk morning air. Bofur could only pray the lad had not passed away in the night.

Durin help him if that were not the case.

Upon reaching the door to Thorin's house, the toymaker raised his fist and knocked, eager to be admitted and receive the news be it good or bad. Taking a deep breath, Bofur waited.

It was if those in the house could sense his urgency, for it took only a moment for the door to be opened by Dwalin. The bald warrior greeted the toymaker with a silent nod and moved aside so that Bofur could enter.

"How's the lad?" Bofur found himself asking. Dwalin sighed and rubbed his face.

"His fever has risen again, making it the fourth time."

Bofur frowned at the statement.

"Can you not do anything?" he asked. The tattooed dwarf beside him merely closed his eyes, breathing in once before answering.

"Oin is trying what he can, but it is a miracle that the boy has survived so long as it is," Dwalin said glumly, "Oin is with him now, changing the bandages."

"And Thorin?" Bofur inquired.

"As good as he can be given the circumstances," came the reply.

Bofur took this all in, standing stock still as he brought his thoughts together. It took a long moment, but by then the toymaker had pulled himself back to the present.

"Will Oin mind if…?" The rest of the question remained unspoken, yet it was clear that Dwalin knew what knowledge Bofur desired.

"No, he will not," the warrior said, moving back a step so he was no longer blocking the way to the sickroom of the house.

Bofur moved past Dwalin smoothly, his footsteps loud upon the wooden floorboards. Pausing at the door, the toymaker peered past it taking in the sorry sight before him.

"I was wondering when you would arrive," Oin said from where he was winding fresh bandages around his young and unresponsive patient. Thorin acknowledged him with a grunt, back mostly facing Bofur as he supported his youngest nephew.

"Had to see how the lad was doing," Bofur said, trying and failing to force out his usual cheery nature. The toymaker was not condemned for this failure, however, rather sent a saddened look as Oin finished up with Kili's torso.

"Worse than when you left," the healer said, as he began to unwrap the bindings on Kili's right arm. Bofur fought back a grimace as he caught a glimpse of the deep incisions crossed over by ragged black stitching that marred the young dwarf's flesh. Resisting the wave of nausea that suddenly came upon him, the toymaker opened his mouth to speak.

"Dwalin said as much," Bofur commented, a deep frown between his eyes as he turned his gaze to a crack in the wall that was of immense interest to him.

"Would you be so kind as to pass the roll of bandages beside you," Oin asked. The toymaker nodded and dropped them next to the healer as he moved beside Thorin.

"Both my brother and Bifur wanted me to say if there was anything you need-"

"Thank them for me," Thorin cut in, his deep voice soft. Bofur managed to tweak one corner of his mouth in an acknowledging smile, though the look in his eyes was saddened if anything.

"I will be sure to pass on your words," the toymaker said.

The two dwarves looked away from each other and towards where Oin was finishing redressing Kili's wounds. Once the last bandage was secured, the three remained where they were, thoughts kept to themselves and a reverent silence maintained between them. No sooner had the silence fully cloaked the room, however, Dwalin came in, not bursting through the door, but not opening it silently either.

"There's someone here asking for you," the bald warrior said, his eyes locking with Oin's, "It's urgent."

Bofur watched as the healer's eyes moved away from Dwalin's and to Kili's prone form first before settling upon Thorin's own grey-blue gaze.

"How urgent?" the grey bearded dwarf said. Dwalin grimaced.

"The dwarf injured might lose a limb urgent," came the answer. Oin took a breath, opening his mouth to answer, but Thorin got there first.

"You said it yourself there is not much you can do for him as of now," the dwarfish leader said. Oin exhaled and stood.

"I am truly sorry," the healer replied, "But I must go if someone needs me expertise. I will return as soon as I can."

Thorin did not reply. Instead it was Bofur who gave the healer a small smile and offered to walk with him to the door.

"If there is any change-"

"We should be able to manage," Bofur cut in, the smile from before still upon his face as he somehow managed to create a mask of assurance to hide behind. Oin merely gazed at him with worried eyes.

"Bear attacks rarely ever result in a happy ending and I fear this may not be any different," he said briefly before turning on his heel and walking out the door to where another dwarf was waiting in the close distance.

Bofur watched him go before swallowing drily and retreating back into the room where both Dwalin and Thorin were now in quite conversation. They paused upon the toymaker's entrance, but Bofur had caught the last few words to know that something was wrong.

"What is the matter?" the toymaker asked, a small frown appearing upon his face. Dwalin sighed and Thorin cast his blue eyes down to were his hands were gripping one of his nephew's.

"The dwarf that Oin was just called away to tend to," Dwalin began, speaking for both himself and Thorin, "He was on patrol when he was attacked."

"Bear?" Bofur asked, his eyes widening in concern and fear. Dwalin shook his head grimly.

"Orc," came the correction. Bofur gulped in a breath of air, taking in the news.

"Do you know how many?" the toymaker asked.

"Enough to cause havoc to those on and near the edge of the village, but not enough for them to storm us," Thorin answered in a monotone, "Unless it was only a small scout party the dwarves ran into. Either way, we need to eliminate the danger."

Bofur bit the inside of his cheek.

"You will have to leave Kili's side," he said seeing the problem as it appeared right before his face. Thorin closed his eyes.

"As much as I loath to I have no choice," the dwarfish leader answered, "The safety of my people must come first."

"I can watch him."

The words were out of Bofur's mouth before he himself realised he had said them. The toymaker waited anxiously for Thorin's answer, the grey-blue eyed dwarf having donned a face devoid of any emotion as soon as the suggestion had left Bofur's lips.

"I mean, Oin showed me what to do before and I hardly think that anything major will happen when you are gone, and if it does I know where Oin is, but again I highly doubt I will need to fetch him, and I can get Bifur or Bombur to come as well and-"

"I am sure Kili will be fine in your hands," Thorin cut in, the small smile upon his lips tainted by the worry and fear within. Bofur let him mouth snap shut, his earlier tirade now meaningless.

"Alright then," he said, unsure how to respond for Thorin was more or less making him responsible for the life of his youngest nephew, a life that was broken enough as it was. He was saved as Dwalin stood, the tattooed warrior placing one hand on his friend's shoulder.

"The longer we wait, the more chance the orcs have to attack," Dwalin said, appearing as though he were talking to the air, yet his words were unmistakably meant for Thorin. The dwarfish leader bowed his head and then stood.

Bofur watched as Thorin brushed his hand along his nephew's fevered forehead, bending close to whisper something inaudible in his air. He then shoot Bofur a look which needed no words to explain.

"He will be here when you get back."

_ I hope._

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**Any of you feel like reviewing? They might help me update faster.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter might be a bit short, but definitely more Kili angst next instalment. For now though, enjoy.**

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The forest look dark and foreboding from where Dwalin stood, as if it were eager to devour any who stepped foot within its wall of impassible trees. The seasoned warrior was sure that it had not looked that way only two days before, but now that the forest's floors were stained with dwarf's blood it would never appear the same.

"Ready to kill some orcish filth?" a voice asked beside him. Dwalin turned his head to look down at Gloin.

"I'm ready for this to be over," the taller dwarf growled, blinking as the light drizzle of rain began to pour down harder.

_I'm ready for this all to be over. All he needs to do is wake._

"With luck you will be out of the rain soon enough," Gloin said testing the edge of his axe with one finger. Dwalin just grunted in response.

_With luck, when I return to see how he is doing there will be good news._

The grim thoughts echoed in Dwalin's otherwise empty mind, suffocating him under waves of worry and fear, drowning him in an endless pool of despair and sheer tiredness, for Dwalin was tired. It was only the second day since the accident and he was tired, completely spent emotionally, and the tattooed dwarf knew he was not the only one. Thorin walked over to the group of assembled warriors, and in that instant the dwarfish leader's blue-grey gaze locked with Dwalin's. The same weariness that had engulfed Dwalin was reflected in Thorin's own eyes.

_What if Thorin loses him? If we _all_ lose him?_

The thought was not a happy one.

"Move out," Thorin called from where he stood and the gathering of dwarves moved into the forest. Dwalin winced every step of the way, the bear attack still fresh in his mind.

Dark visions assaulted Dwalin as he brushed past the first tree, an immaterial mass of flesh and fur appearing before his eyes. The warrior hesitated, but only briefly, not long enough for anyone to notice. Well anyone except Thorin. Again the Dwalin found his gaze drawn towards that of his friend's and again words were not needed for each dwarf to understand the other's thoughts.

Dwalin shook his head, trying to clear it so he could perform the task that needed to be performed without getting injured or killed. Even if there were no orcs in the forest, the seasoned warrior had already been proved that it was still a very dangerous place to be.

"We were attacked nor far from here," came the voice of the dwarf who Dwalin had greeted that morning. He was still in the clothes covered in the blood of his comrade.

_There had been so much blood…._

"Be on guard," Thorin's voice said, one hand grasping the hilt of his sword but not drawing it. Dwalin mimicked this action with the axe on his back.

The tattooed dwarf's eyes scanned the area around him, well aware of the fact that Gloin was striding along beside him, the ginger bearded dwarf bristling in the anticipation of a good fight. It had been a while since any of the warriors in the village had a chance to stretch their stiffened legs.

Soon the group came to the area in which the attack had happened. Dark stains of saturated earth were scattered around, as were a few orcish bodies. Dwalin kicked one, ensuring the being was dead before looking over to Thorin for instructions. The dwarfish leader was conversing with one of the dwarves who had been on the patrol.

"Which direction did they go off in?"

"I'm not sure," came the answer to Thorin's question, "There was a lot of commotion."

The dwarf who had spoken shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"From where I'm standing, north," another dwarf answered, the black haired warrior's arms folded over his chest. He too was painted in blood, but it was only his arms that were so.

"Are you sure?" asked Thorin, not eager to waste time going on a wild goose chase when his youngest nephew had yet to wake back at his home.

"I am sure," the dwarf replied after a brief pause. His words did not ease Dwalin's tension. In a forest, surrounded by trees, it would be easy for them to be taken by surprise. Not a good thing since their potential enemy was a group of bloodthirsty orcs.

The group began to move again, their footsteps muffled by the other more natural sounds of the forest. Gloin stayed by Dwalin's side and Dwalin's eyes stayed fixed on his leader. He had failed one Durin already. He would not fail another.

Looking up at the sky, the seasoned warrior frowned. This was taking longer than he had expected, longer than he wanted it to take. Then again, Dwalin had not expected them to find the orcs as soon as they had set foot in the forest, though it would have been a nice notion had it been that way. The tattooed dwarf's thoughts then flew to Kili and Bofur, wondering how they both were faring, one more so than the other.

It was because he was not paying attention that Dwalin missed the orc hanging overhead.

A short cry rang out amongst the group of dwarves as Thorin was caught by surprise. The orc that had forced the dwarfish leader to the ground by jumping on his shoulders rolled away, drawing a crooked knife as it went. Several of the dwarves who had been standing by Thorin rushed to their leader's aid, but were waylaid as more orcs came out of the foliage and cut them off. They could do nothing as Durin's heir warded off the attacks of the orc who had surprised him.

Dwalin growled in frustration as he lost sight of Thorin in favor of cutting down the ugly face that had suddenly come out of nowhere. When he looked up again, Thorin and the orc he had been battling was gone.

"Damn it!" he cried, sinking his axe into the head of a charging orc.

_I should have been watching more closely._

Dwalin shook his head. There was no time to berate himself now. That could be done later when he had found Thorin in one piece.

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**Reviews would be much appreciated.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Early update, I know (though I am busy at the moment so the next update may not be for a while). In any case, more Kili angst as promised. **

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Bofur rubbed his face, tired, but happy that nothing had changed in Kili's condition that had required him to fetch Oin. Still, nothing had changed in Kili's condition and that was not good news. What was more was that the toymaker was alone in his worry, no one else in the house save him and the unconscious dwarfling he was looking after.

"I suppose I should change your bandages then," Bofur remarked quietly to his charge, brown eyes staring almost longingly at the pale face framed by tangled brown hair. The toymaker sighed, wishing that the youth's eyes would just snap open as he stared. They did not and the disheartened dwarf moved on to fetch what he needed to clean and redress Kili's wounds just as Oin had shown him.

Placing the bowl of water on the table by the bed, Bofur contemplated the scene before him for a moment, trying to decide how he would lift Kili from the bed so he could redress his torso.

"We'll start with your arms first then," the toymaker said conversationally, reaching for the limb closest to him, "Sorry if this hurts at all, but it is for your own good. You'll thank me later for it."

_If there is a later. No, stop thinking like that,_ Bofur berated himself, _there is a chance he will make it out of this yet, alive and breathing and as well as he was before._

Grabbing at the bandages on Kili's arm, the toymaker managed to gently coax one end free before proceeding to unwrap the white strips of linen. He swallowed drily when the jagged handiwork of Dwalin's sewing skills came into view, but did not hesitate in his movements.

Making quick work of cleaning and rewrapping the arm, Bofur began on Kili's right side. The sight was very much the same, though the toymaker frowned when he saw reddening in several areas along the parts where Kili's flesh had been torn the most. The dwarf's fingers ghosted over the areas, feeling the noticeable heat rising off them. Running a wet cloth over the youth's right shoulder, Bofur's frown deepened as he eyed the swelling that was taking place there as well as the redness.

It was the beginnings of an infection.

Bofur paused in his work, thinking.

_I can manage it for now, _he decided, _but I need to ensure I clean them well. It has only just begun to show signs so is not so urgent that I need to fetch Oin, though I will have to tell him as soon as he returns._

Bandaging the offending limb, Bofur sighed and rolled his neck, wincing as he felt it crack several times.

"I'm going to have to sit you up now so I can fix the bandages around your chest," the toymaker said to the prone figure on the bed, "I just need to figure out how I am going to hold you at the same time, so excuse me if I disturb you."

It was madness talking to the boy when the young dwarf more than likely could not hear him, yet it somehow managed to comfort the toymaker, relieving him of his fears and worries. Silence would only allow everything to build up on itself, but Bofur had learnt long ago that a little noise helped him to distract himself enough not to dwell on the grief which had found a place in his life.

Sitting on the bed, Bofur laid the bowl and cloth he had been using previously by his side as well as a fresh roll of bandages. He hesitated a moment before slipping his hands underneath Kili's back, hefting the lad's limp form up into a sitting position. The youth's head lolled limply.

"You'll be up again in no time," Bofur said in a voice that was halfway between cheery and tired. He pulled Kili into his shoulder and reached behind him to where the end of the bandage around his chest was tucked.

It was when Bofur was reaching for the bowl of water that the youth leaning into his shoulder took him by surprise.

Kili jerked back and away from Bofur suddenly and without warning. Bofur frowned in confusion, hands reaching out to catch the youth and hold him in place.

"What in the name of…. Kili!" Bofur cried out in surprise, watching with an unmasked delight as the lad's eyes blinked around to face him. "It's about time that you woke," the toymaker continued, "You've been worrying everyone out of their minds. When your uncle hears that you've…. Kili?"

Bofur watched in concern as the young dwarf's eyes failed to light up with recognition. The brown orbs just stared at him blankly as if he were a stranger that Kili did not know and did not take interest in.

_This is not good, _the toymaker thought, _but at least he is a-_

"KILI!" Bofur half yelled in alarm as the youth unexpectedly tore his body from the toymaker's hands, a sharp sound emitting from his mouth. Bofur was up and off the bed in a heartbeat, hands brushing along Kili's sides as the older tried to force his charge back down onto the bed.

Kili gave a hoarse shout and somehow twisted free, leaving Bofur cursing in his wake. The heat radiating off the youth's skin was intense, having rapidly increased the moment the young dwarf had opened his eyes.

"This is not good, not good at all," Bofur found himself muttering as he fought to keep the youth still. Whether or not the fit had been caused by fever or something else, the toymaker did not know, but there was now terror etched into Kili's face and Bofur thought it was more than likely some form of nightmarish memory was haunting the young dwarf.

Bofur cried out in surprise as Kili jerked again, more violently this time causing him to fall off the bed. The young dwarf fell to the floor, landing with a half muffled thump as Bofur barely managed to break the youth's fall.

"Mahal…" the toymaker said half to himself as he found himself sprawled under Thorin Oakenshield's youngest nephew whose wild thrashing seemed to be decreasing. He felt a warm, sticky liquid seeping into the material of his sleeves, and it was with concern that Bofur noted Kili's chest wounds had reopened at least partially.

It was with great effort that the disgruntled dwarf managed to extract himself from under Kili and sit, pulling Kili into his lap as he did so. He saw the thin lines of red trailing from several places where it was obvious that the stiches Dwalin had put in before had torn and cursed inwardly. Kili did not need to lose any more blood, not so soon after losing such a vast amount before.

"Look at me now lad," Bofur said, glancing back towards Kili's face, the youth's eyes fixated on a point above the toymaker's head. He groaned softly, hands clenching at his sides slightly before relaxing again.

The young dwarf's eyes blinked, glazing over as whatever had caused him to wake in such a forceful manner faded. Kili's body began to fall limp and Bofur found himself suddenly fighting to keep the lad awake.

"Don't close your eyes," the toymaker said in a stern voice so unlike his own, "Do not fall back asleep. You may never wake if you do."

Kili, however, did not seem to hear the warning in the words nor the crack in the voice of the dwarf who held him towards the end. His eyes fluttered closed and Bofur was again left alone in the house. Only this time Kili was shaking as though he had been plunged into a sea of ice cold water even though his fever was now higher than it had been before.

"Damn it!" Bofur shouted, half hoping that the volume of his words would wake the unconscious dwarfling. When it became clear that it would not, the toymaker swore knowing that he was now in a situation that he could not redeem himself. Even if he could get Kili back onto the bed by himself, Bofur knew he could not leave the youth in the condition he was in to get help.

Looking down on Kili's sweat ridden face, Bofur contemplated his options. He needed Oin, yet he was the only one in the house. The episode before had scared him more than he would like to have admitted and while the toymaker did not want to see another fit like the previous one, he could not abandon him. He also needed to do something to stop the bleeding before it got worse, yet Bofur did not trust his shaking hands to replace the stiches that had been torn.

The despairing dwarf just didn't know what to do. Bofur was afraid to so much as move the boy for the change that had so suddenly come over him after a day and a half of almost nothing.

_Mahal, please. Send someone, anyone here so that I can send them for help. Please, do not let help arrive too late._

The toymaker's silent prayers were answered and only a moment later a knock came at the door.

"I've brought you some lunch if you're hungry. Thought I would keep you company and see if I could help at all. Business at the inn is going slowly and Azania thought that it would be best if I-"

Bombur's words cut off as he came to a halt in the centre of the doorway leading into Kili's room.

"Durin's beard…."

"I need you to get Oin," Bofur said sharply, "Now!"

Bombur was out the door faster than his brother could blink, the round dwarf not bothering to wait for the toymaker to explain. Bofur sighed as he heard Bombur's footsteps fade, alone once again with the unconscious Kili.

"Why?" he asked to the thin air, "He was doing so well." The dwarf received no answer however.

The thin trails of blood that had been running down Kili's chest before had begun the process of clotting over, leaving the youth's skin patched with a stiff red substance. The shaking had no stopped and it was as such that Bofur viewed the young dwarf in his arms.

"You have to hold on," he said, voice carrying an edge of despair to it, "You have to hold on. Please."

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**And just when you thought it could not get worse... ;)**

**In any case, reviewers will get a little hint for a certain chapter that is upcoming (though will not appear for a long while). Unless you are a guest reviewer (in which case I will put the hint up next chapter).**


	11. Chapter 11

**Got this up earlier than I expected. Might be a little short, but I hope you enjoy it.**

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Dwalin felt a sinking pit in his stomach as he glanced around the makeshift battlefield yet again. There had been more orcs than he had expected in the ambush, yet half of them were now dead on the forest floor. Several of the dwarves that had been with him were also motionless, a few more supporting grievous wounds.

Whipping up the axe in his hand to block a blow aimed for his head, the seasoned warrior tried to determine who was still standing and who was not. There were the faces of Bergin and Haram, eyes seeing nothing as the pools of blood beneath their sword-pierced chests began to dry. Lennon too had fallen, slain by an orc that now laid broken at the feet of the dwarves. Grief pricked Dwalin's heart at each loss, for Bergin had been near his end of service, both Haram and Lennon barely started. Their faces, however, were not the ones that Dwalin was searching for.

_Durin's beard, Thorin! Where are you?_

"Is this all they can muster up to throw at us?" Gloin barked with a savageness awakened by the battle. His weapons were silver streaks in the air around him as he continued to cut through the remaining orcs.

Dwalin ignored him, eyes set and determined as he landed a killing blow on another orc, crushing its chest and slicing deeply through its skin at the same time. Allowing the body to fall to the ground as he withdrew his axe, Dwalin continued in his mad search for his leader, moving swifter than before due to the diminishing number of orcs in his way.

It was the heavy breathing that gave him away. As the last stretch of the battle began to die down, Dwalin turned a moment too late as the sword came bearing down on him amidst the warning shout of Gloin and several others. The seasoned warrior flicked his wrist up, beginning to bring his axe into place between him and the orc though in his mind he knew it was a helpless cause. Then the orc halted all movement, choking on the blade protruding from its throat.

"You need to watch your back more," Guerin said with a shaky humour, the dwarf's orange hair half out of his usually neat braids. The warrior's appearance looked disheveled at best.

"Thanks," Dwalin said with a nod before turning to move towards Gloin.

"I think we're done here," the red haired dwarf said as Dwalin drew close. The taller dwarf shook his head solemnly.

"Did you see Thorin at all after the ambush?" Dwalin asked, trying his best to keep fear for the wellbeing of the dwarfish leader out of his voice. To that tattooed dwarf's immense horror, however, Gloin frowned and shook his head.

"Not since that first wave of orcs came at us," he replied.

Dwalin rubbed his face with one hand, almost ready to lose it from all the stress that had been piled onto him of late.

"You take the wounded back to the village," the seasoned warrior finally said, staring at a point above Gloin's head as he spoke, "I'll gather up some of those who are unharmed and begin a search party for Thorin."

_Dis will more than just kill me if I also cause her to lose Thorin too._

"There's no need," a voice said beside the tall dwarf and Dwalin turned only to find himself staring down at none other than Thorin Oakenshield. The tattooed dwarf blinked once and then twice, the muscles in his jaw working to move it up and down. Gloin looked precariously from one dwarf to the other before excusing himself silently.

"What happened to you?" Dwalin half growled, his previous anxiety now working up into anger. Thorin merely held his hands aloft, signing for peace.

"I got caught up in the fighting," the dwarfish leader replied, "After the orc floored me, I managed to snap the bastard's neck. Then I got caught up in the fighting with several others on the other side of the fighting. I am unharmed," Thorin finished, catching the way Dwalin was regarding his form. The tattooed dwarf grunted in response.

"Good," Dwalin said bluntly, "Dis and Fili do not need to return only to be informed that both you and Kili were both injured in the time they were gone." Thorin's face blanched at the thought and Dwalin cursed himself for his lack of tact.

"Any casualties?" Thorin asked, clearly not wanting to dwell on what Dwalin had just said. The seasoned warrior inhaled deeply before exhaling his answer a moment later.

"Bergin, Haram and Lennon are dead. Several others are injured; Thereon is severely wounded. He may or may not last the night, even with Oin working on him."

Dwalin watched his friend appear to deflate, his face growing more haggard and wearied in a heartbeat.

"Their families will be devastated," the dwarfish leader said quietly, mind distant. Dwalin merely blinked, his face hard and impassive.

"It is the way of things," the seasoned warrior said, his voice gruff, "And there is nothing anyone can do about it. We were ambushed and caught off guard."

"We need to get the wounded back to the healers. We also need to get the dead back as well," Thorin cut in, beginning to form a list of what needed to be done, "A party will also need to be sent to ensure no further orcs are hiding. Fresh patrolmen can be sent once we return."

Dwalin shifted his weight to his other leg, a slight crease of thought furrowed on his brow.

"Will you be joining the search party or-?"

"I will be returning," Thorin said in answer, his mind made up, "Gloin will head off the search party, unless of course you want-"

"I will return as well," Dwalin told his friend and leader, "And I will also inform the families of Bergin, Haram and Lennon." He shook his head as Thorin opened his mouth to cut in. "No," the tattooed dwarf insisted, "You need to get back to Kili. I am more than able to take care of this and discuss any matters of immediate concern with my brother."

Thorin stared at him, speechless.

"Thank you," the dwarfish leader finally managed to whisper, his blue-grey eyes shinning with an unspoken gratitude. Dwalin only tweaked the corner of his mouth sadly in return.

_After all, you do not know how much time he has left._

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**Worthy of a review or do I need to up my game next chapter?**

**In any case, here is the hint for a chapter in the far, far future as promised for those (guests) who reviewed and my dedicated readers in general. **

**"Fee…" Kili whimpered softly, his voice barely even a whisper.**

**"Oh," the young dwarf rasped softly, "Oh…Mahal."**

**The words may be out of order (sentence wise ) … ;D **


	12. Chapter 12

**Not sure how good this is, but I hope you enjoy it anyway, especially the end. I sort of surprised myself.**

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When Oin came crashing through the door with Bombur in tow Bofur had never felt so relieved in his life. Kili had not moved since the earlier episode, and it was only through his shaking and the shallow yet consistent rise and fall of his chest that the toymaker knew the young dwarf was alive.

"Through here," Bofur called, his legs beginning to cramp from being held in one position for so long. He glanced down at the limp form in his arms and opened his mouth to speak again. "Hurry."

There was a brief pause outside the door as Oin gave Bombur several instructions, and then the healer entered the room. He sent Bofur and Kili one swift glance as he crossed the room, being careful to avoid the pair of dwarves on the floor.

"What happened?" Oin asked, voice serious as he laid down the items he had brought with him. Bofur looked up at the healer with worry shinning clearly in his eyes.

"He woke," the toymaker began, "When I was changing his bandages and at first he was just looking around, but then he began to thrash around, taking himself off the bed and me down with him."

"Do you know what caused the fit?" Oin asked, frowning at what he had just been told.

"No," Bofur said, "But he didn't seem to recongised me when he woke."

"Not a good sign," Oin mumbled to himself. Bofur creased his forehead.

"Of course it's not a good sign," he half snapped, frayed nerves acting to sour his mood, "What do we do?"

Oin turned to asses the toymaker with guarded eyes for a moment before kneeling beside Kili's prone form. The healer checked the pulse and breathing of the young dwarf, mumbling to himself under his breath much to Bofur's annoyance. He moved onto feeling along Kili's limbs, lingering on the wounded areas of Kili's arms before running one hand gently down the youth's chest. After what seemed like an age the healer finally looked Bofur square in the eye.

"It is safe to move him," he said, moving down to take Kili's feet. Bofur recongised his cue and rearranged his hold on the lad so that his shoulders and head were mostly supported.

"On three," he said, not wanting to jostle the youth any further than he needed to.

_Durin knows the lad is in enough pain as it is._

Oin nodded and began to count, each number slow and distinct. Three had barely left the healer's lips when both dwarves strained upwards, painstakingly shifting from their knees to their feet before crossing the room and finally laying Kili back on the bed.

"Unwind the bandages on his arms for me," the healer said as he extracted a needle and some thread from his supplies, "I need to know how many of his wounds I need to re-stitch."

Bofur nodded his head in assent, removing the relatively fresh bandages he had applied only hours before. He looked up several times to watch Oin's process, marveling at how neat the healer's stiches were compared to those sewn by Dwalin. The pile of thankfully clean strips of linen was growing larger with each passing moment, yet when Bofur began to unwrap the bandages surrounding Kili's right upper arm, he barely bit back a curse.

"What is it?" Oin asked, peering up from where he had been absorbed in his task before. Bofur jerked his head towards where Kili's skin was a notable angry red, redder and more swelled than it had been before.

"Infection," the toymaker said, "Looks as though it is in several different areas as well. I saw it when I was changing his bandages before, but it seems to have gotten worse."

Oin frowned.

"Is there anything else you noticed before or during the fit?" he asked urgently, quickly finishing the stich he was on before moving over to Bofur's side to inspect the infected area. The toymaker swallowed.

"His fever rose considerably during the episode and his began shaking afterwards as though he had been plunged into a lake of ice," he said hesitantly. Oin nodded.

"That I noticed," he replied, before falling silent for a few short moments. "It may have been what caused the fit. The fever, not the shaking," the healer eventually continued. Bofur breathed out through his nose, closing his eyes as a wave of weariness washed over him.

"What did you ask my brother to do?"

"Hmm…oh. I merely asked him to fetch my assistant and to notify the guards at the gate to notify Thorin upon his return," Oin said, beginning to mix up a salve in a wooden bowl to smear over Kili's wounds.

Thorin.

"Mahal," Bofur breathed, what Oin had just said suddenly sinking in, "He is going to kill me. I said I could look after Kili, that I would be fine and now look what happened."

"What was that?" the healer beside him asked, glancing up briefly at the toymaker. Bofur shook his head.

"It doesn't matter."

"Then hold him up for me so I can rewrap his chest," the healer said, his voice brisk and commanding. Bofur complied, pulling the young brunette up into his arms for a third time that day.

Oin was nearly finished in his task when Bombur came in, red faced and out of breath. He took in the scene before him with grim eyes as he turned to face the healer beside his brother.

"I have done as you said," he informed Oin, his words broken up by undignified panting. The healer nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"You have my thanks," he said absently, tying off the last of the bandages, "There, you may lay him back down now."

Bofur did as he was told, gently placing Kili back on the pillows beneath the youth. The brunette's face was slack, yet his features appeared tense as though whatever had incurred the incident before was still at play inside the young dwarf's mind. Still, only the movement of Kili's chest rising and falling was evident, and as such Bofur felt his resolve crumbling.

_Wake up, lad. Just wake UP!_

"Bofur? Bofur!"

The toymaker's head snapped up from where it had been gazing down at the prone form beneath it. He turned to face his brother, biting his lower lip as he did so.

"Sorry," Bofur mumbled, trying and failing to send a smile Bombur's way.

The round dwarf made to speak, but was cut short as a loud knocking took up on the door.

"I'll get it," Bofur said to no one in particular, needing to get out of the designated sick room to clear his head.

His footsteps echoing on the wooden floorboards, the toymaker swiftly made his way to the door. Grasping the handle, he pulled it open coming face to face with another dwarf, one who had set out with Thorin for patrol.

"Oin," the disheveled warrior gasped, "I need Oin."

Bofur did not pause in flying back to where the healer was working.

"The patrol is back," he gasped as Oin's head snapped up, his eyes unusually alert, "It appears they ran into trouble."

The healer glanced at Kili and then sighed, jumping to his feet and grabbing the supplies he had not used. Without a backward glance he was gone, the door slamming shut behind his hurried figure. Bofur stared after him and sighed, sinking to the floor where he leaned against the doorframe.

"What is it?" the voice of Bombur asked as the round dwarf came to a crouch beside his brother. Bofur suddenly found himself seeking Bombur's warm embrace.

"Don't leave me alone," he cried, pressing into his brother's arms, "I cannot deal with this alone. It is too much….too much for me to face alone." The toymaker grasped at Bombur's tunic, pressing his face into the fabric. Much to his gratitude the round dwarf did not push him away, merely holding him closer offering comfort through touch alone.

The two brothers remained in the same position for a long while, the one normally doing the comforting crumbling in the arms of the other. On the bed across from the pair, the motionless figure of Kili seemed to respond to the change in the atmosphere around him, a slight frown appearing on his forehead. He shifted once and then was still again, Bofur obliviously pulling himself back together slowly in Bombur's embrace.

It was only when the door to the house slammed that the toymaker looked up again.

"Kili?"

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**Please review. I am simultaneously drowning in assignments and my own writing (both fan fiction and non fan fiction related) right now so I really need them. :(**


	13. Chapter 13

**Here you go. Some emotional Dwalin, here which I hope you enjoy.**

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The door loomed before him, subtly mocking the burly warrior with its closed face, a face that presented so much hope. Taking a deep breath, Dwalin closed his eyes and stepped up to knock on the wood.

"Yes?" a voice asked, wavering slightly as the dwarf the voice belonged to beheld just who was on his doorstep. Dwalin swallowed once as he stared down at the woman who had answered.

"I am sorry," he began, twisting his fingers together. The female in front of him had begun to shake her head in denial.

"No, no, no. It cannot be. I won't believe it. No, no," she repeated as if the words could drown out the truth.

"I am sorry," Dwalin said again, raising his voice slightly to be heard, "But Lennon is dea-"

"No!" cried the woman before him, the redhead flinging herself onto the seasoned warrior, "No! Tell me it is not true. Tell me you have got it wrong."

"I am truly, truly sorry," Dwalin replied, slowly prying her clutching fingers off the fabric of his tunic, "But what I tell you is the truth. Lennon fell in the fight against to orcs."

"No, not my boy," the woman moaned, now a limp puddle by Dwalin's feet. The tall warrior bit his lip, unsure whether he should take his leave or help the female at his feet back inside. He was saved as another face came to the door, brought forth by the commotion.

"What's going on?" the brown haired dwarf demanded. It was the redhead on the floor that answered first.

"My son," she wailed, now grasping at the feet behind her, "My son is dead. Dead! He is too young…too young…."

"I will take it from here," the dwarf opposite Dwalin said, seeing the warrior's indecision. Dwalin nodded and turned away to give the pair some much needed privacy.

As he walked, thoughts of Dis flew through his head, thoughts involving her returning to find that she had only one son. If Kili were to pass from the world, Dwalin was unsure how Dis would react, though he had several ideas of which he could clearly visualise in his head.

The first of these was almost the same as the scene the seasoned warrior had just witness unfold. More often than not a mother would all but collapse as the news of their child's death was delivered to them, and it was more than likely Dis would be no different. Dwalin physically cringed as he imagined the thud of the female dwarf's knees colliding with wooden floorboards, shoulders shaking as she wailed in denial deafening all around her. A once proud woman reduced to nothing but a pool of salty tears.

Still, Dwalin knew Dis might act the complete opposite, not reacting at all save shedding a few lone tears just as the wife of Bergin had. Dwarves were a hardy race, the line of Durin more so than others. They were not prone to showing grief or sorrow, at least not where the public eye could view and judge them. Female she might be, but Dwalin could not fail to acknowledge that Dis was in fact descended from Durin himself. For all he knew, Kili's mother could merely stand strong and silent as she let the horror of losing her youngest wash over her, and in a way that would be a thousand times worse than if she screamed or begged.

There was however, one worse scenario that could take place, a scenario that would haunt Dwalin whether it came to be or not. Dis could lash out at him with nails flying and eyes blazing, much like Haram's mother had. When the seasoned warrior had delivered the news of the young dwarf's fall, the female dwarf had merely blinked before launching into a full scaled attack on him both verbally and physically.

_"Why did you let my son die? Why did you not save him?"_

Three shallow furrows still ran down his right cheek where he had failed to deflect the blow of the woman acting on a deep rooted grief. Whether he had actually meant to deflect the blow was another matter, for the woman's words had taken their toll on him, just as they always did when he was left to inform someone of the death of a loved one.

_"He was under you charge, under your care. Had you done your job than he would be standing in your place, but you did not so he is not."_

Dwalin knew it would break him if Dis ever turned on him like that. If Kili died, he would no doubt deserve it, but it would break him none the less. Fili too would lash out, not physically as that was not the blonde's way, he would not even lash out with words. Rather he would lash out with a cold and stony silence, not unlike the walls of the mountain that had been lost long ago. He would lash out with an icy fire strong enough to oppose his mother's own immensely hot one.

"I see you are back, brother," Balin's voice called as Dwalin opened the door to their house. The seasoned warrior sighed despondently.

"Informing the families of those who died is something I do not take much joy in doing," he said with a deep sense of weariness and regret. Balin looked up from where he had been spilling over a pile of papers.

"It is not a task any would find joy in," he replied, "And it is a task that is by no means easy either."

"You think I don't know that?" Dwalin snapped before glancing away from the concerned eyes of his brother, ashamed by hos outburst. He refused to look back up even as he felt a hand run gently over the scratches down his cheek.

"What happened?" Balin asked softly, bending around to peer into his brother's face. Dwalin sighed again, biting the inside of his cheek as he did so.

"Haram's mother did not take the news well," he said simply, emotion devoid of his voice but not his eyes. Balin reached up to give the warrior's shoulder a squeeze before guiding the younger dwarf to a chair.

"What happened?" the dwarf asked again, this time his words directed at something entirely different. Dwalin grunted.

"Did Guerin not tell you of what happened with the patrol?" he replied. Balin shook his head.

"I want to hear it from you."

"There is nothing more to tell," Dwalin shot back. His brother merely sat in front of him, waiting. It only took a moment for the seasoned warrior to give in.

"We were ambushed," he started bluntly, not one overly fond of talking, "We had been following the direction the orcs headed after they attacked the first patrol and they came out of nowhere to attack us. I was not paying attention as I should have and they got Thorin." At this Dwalin growled at himself, pushing one fist into his forehead. "I was stupid in letting myself get distracted, and it was only after the battle that I found him, by some miracle, unharmed. We assessed our loses and then returned here."

The warrior finished, both hands now clenched tightly in his lap, muscles in his arms tense and bulging. His shoulders were shaking, not with sorrow or grief, but with anger directed at himself. He had failed to protect his leader where he had sworn to do so with his life. It had all turned out for the best, yet Dwalin knew that it would have only taken one slipup on Thorin's part to give the story a vastly different ending. He had failed in protecting the line of Durin again, just as he had failed in protecting Kili and Frerin, Thror and even Thrain.

"Brooding again, brother?" Balin said with jest, pulling Dwalin out of the depression he had sunken into, "I believe you have been hanging around Thorin too much."

"No," Dwalin cut in, "No, I have just realised the consequences of my actions."

Balin regarded him with a concerned frown.

"How so?" he asked.

"I am no longer fit to watch over the line of Durin," Dwalin answered, pushing his chair away as he stood.

"Where do you think you're going?" Balin cried as the tattooed dwarf made for the door.

"To inform Thorin that I must step down from my position," Dwalin answered. His brother was up and in front of him faster than he could blink.

"You are not thinking straight," Balin said, his voice containing a tinge of anger, "Your mind has been addled by the events of this day and the days before. You need to rest."

"I am thinking perfectly fine," Dwalin retorted, "Had I been able to do my job Thorin would not have been placed in such immense danger. If I had been able to do my job, Kili would not have been set upon by a bear. If I had been able to do my job, Thror and Frerin would still be alive and Thrain here right now, but I was not able, never able and now look at the mess we are in."

"Dwalin!" Balin reprimanded, "Enough of this! I will not have that talk in this house."

"It is merely the truth," the younger of the two said.

"NO!" Balin yelled, "It is not the truth. You are blinded by grief and how you managed to place the guilt of every misfortune we have come across…. Truly brother, you amaze me sometimes. Now sit back down, or better yet, sleep. Take your rest. If need be I will have Oin drug you."

"Oin has his work cut out for him already," Dwalin said softly, ashamed at his brother's words, "He has no time for me."

"Then stop this nonsense and behave as you ought," Balin answered. To that, Dwalin had no reply.

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**Thanks for the reviews. :) They helped to make my day. :) However, I should be getting back to work... In any case, can any of you squeeze out another? Review that is. ;)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Short chapter, and probably not as much of Kili as you would like, but hey. At least it's up.**

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Pulling himself out of his brother's arms, Bofur rose to his feet, heart sinking to the floor.

"Thorin?" the toymaker called as Bombur pulled himself up beside his brother.

"Aye," came the reply, "Now tell me what has befallen my youngest nephew."

Bofur fell back a few steps as Thorin materialised in the door, grey-blue eyes flashing formidably against the dwarfish leader's disheveled appearance. Swallowing the toymaker nervously glanced back at where Kili lay in slumber, twiddling his thumbs all the while. Bombur had all but melted into the shadows in the corner.

"How much do you already know?" Bofur asked with a slight quaver in his voice. Thorin moved to sit beside his nephew, eyes focused on the youth's face but listening intently.

"Just that Kili had a fit of some sort," he replied, reaching up one hand to stroke the brown hair before him, "I suspect you can shed some light on the situation."

"That I can," Bofur replied before lapsing into silence. It took several quiet and controlled breaths as well as a nod from his brother to start the toymaker up again. "It happened when I was changing his bandages," Bofur began, "He woke for a short period of time, but-"

"He woke?" Thorin cried, joy tingeing his voice. Bofur closed his eyes against the dwarf's false hope.

"He did not recognise me," he said bluntly, "And it was not long after that when he started jolting around as though he were possessed."

This time it was Thorin closing his eyes against the spoken words. Bofur watched him for a moment.

"Go on," the dwarfish leader said and the toymaker obeyed.

"Luckily Bombur turned up when he did," Bofur stated casting a grateful glance in his brother's direction, "In any case, he fetched Oin. By the time he arrived the entire thing had finished."

"Do you know what caused it?"

"No," Bofur replied with an apologetic look, "Oin didn't know either, though he guessed it was something to do with Kili's fever rising and the infection that has begun to settle in."

"What?" Thorin rumbled, his hand freezing halfway across his nephew's fevered brow as he turned to stare at Bofur, "Infection? Already?"

"I…I am afraid so," Bofur replied, stumbling slightly over his words. He bit his lip, fingers twitching nervously in the fabric of his tunic as he watched Thorin heave out a large breath and rub both hands down his face.

"Leave me please," the dwarfish leader finally said. Bofur frowned.

"I don't think that is a good idea," he replied, "I was unable to get help when the fit started due to being the only one in the house."

"I am not asking you to leave completely," Thorin stated, "Merely to leave the room so I may have some time alone with my nephew."

After everything the generally stoic dwarf had been through that day and in the past few ones, Bofur could not deny him this one thing.

"Very well," he said, "I will be outside if you need me." Nodding to his brother, the toymaker lead the way out the door.

It was with weary legs that Bofur sank into a chair, head drooping down to his chest as he allowed the events of the day to wash over him and finally drain his strength. He had yet to apologise to Thorin for his failure to keep anything further happening to Kili, but he was too exhausted to follow through with the notion.

"You look like you need some time to yourself," Bombur commented. Bofur started as his pipe appeared beneath his nose.

"T…thanks," he managed to stutter, grabbing the pipe from his brother, "Though I suppose I had better not smoke it in here."

"I think some air would do you good," came Bombur's reply.

The round dwarf grabbed Bofur by the arm and guided him out of the house before allowing the hollowed out toymaker to sink back against the wall. Lighting the pipe, Bombur passed it to his brother before sitting beside him.

Bofur drew in a long breath, inhaling the intoxicating smoke before blowing it back out again in one big whoosh. He sighed into the air wondering how the world could seem so peaceful when Kili was fighting for life only a small way away from him.

The light drizzle of rain only a foot away from where the two brothers sat under the overhang of the house's roof washed everything in grey. It dampened the atmosphere, yet in a light and refreshing way, the constant beat of water falling on the earth around him lulling Bofur into a dreamlike state. His mind emptied and cleared save for the thoughts of the young dwarf he had held so carefully in his arms earlier that day.

"Do you think he is hurting?"

"What?" Bombur asked, turning his head so it faced the toymaker.

"Kili," Bofur said, "Do you think he is hurting? Or do you think he is just merely unable to express his pain?"

"I don't know what to think," Bombur replied slowly, frowning as he spoke, "I suppose it would be best if he could not feel the pain, but for all I know he could. Feel the pain I mean."

"Thorin seems so…distressed by it," Bofur said, "Not that I would blame him. If Kili were my nephew…."

"You seem pretty torn up about the situation regardless," the toymaker's brother commented.

"You should have seen him when Dwalin first brought him in. No, actually I am glad you didn't," Bofur corrected, "It is something I wouldn't wish anyone to see if they did not have to. The amount of blood…that is something I don't think I will be able to forget."

Bombur did not reply, rather staring out into the rain deep in thought. Bofur puffed away on his pipe beside the round dwarf, his trademark hat sliding down his forehead from time to time. The day was growing older with each passing moment, and it was only a little later that Bombur sighed and stood.

"I should be getting back," the ginger dwarf said, "Azania will be wondering where I got to."

"I will see you tomorrow then," Bofur replied lifting his head from where it had dropped against his chest. The toymaker made no move to stand.

"Will you not return to your own home?"

"Nay," Bofur said, "After today I fear to leave Thorin alone in case the same fit strikes Kili again. It is better if there is two of us to care for the lad, one to mind him and one to fetch help if needed."

"I will tell Bifur not to worry then," the toymaker's brother said, "For he no doubt already is."

Bofur nodded and the round dwarf was gone, disappearing into the now ceasing rain. The toymaker sat and watched the world alone a while more before he too got up, putting out his pipe and walking back inside to where a young dwarf lay fading away ever so slowly.

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**Definitely**** more Kili next chapter, or at least more Dwalin. ;) So if you guys would be so kind as to review...**


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